A Town Like Alex
by wombledon
Summary: Sequel to One Another's Shadow. A series of armed robberies has the Met perplexed. They're probably linked and if they are, who is behind it? And what, if anything, do they know about Alex? Gene/Alex. Rated M for strong language and adult themes.
1. Savile Row

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: This is a sequel to _One Another's Shadow_ and is for all of you who asked for it. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thanks to Lucida Bright for being the excellent beta reader that she is.

* * *

"Alex, we're going to have to leave this bed sometime," he said softly into her hair as his arms tightened around her. There were other ways to spend a Sunday but he couldn't think of a better one.

There was a sleepy moan of contentment as she entwined their fingers. "I don't see why."

"Hmm. Yes, I'm sure I had a reason. Give me a moment… I'll think of it again…" He squeezed her gently and tried to tickle her palm.

A loud ringing interrupted them.

"Bastard phone."

"Tsk. Your _language_, Bollykecks. You must be associating with the wrong sort," he grinned and reluctantly let her go. Groaning, he threw back the duvet, sloped across the bedroom and grabbed his bathrobe on his way out the door.

She heard him run down the stairs and snatch the phone up.

"Hunt. _What_?"

Alex gave a snort of laughter. Some things never changed. From what she could make out, he was talking to Ray and she knew that they were going to have to go into work. Sighing at the unfairness of it all, she stretched and tried to blink the cobwebs away. Squinting at the clock she saw they'd had less than three hours sleep. Worth it, though. Her eyes fluttered shut and she smiled as her hand drifted over his pillow. The bed dipped beside her and his warm hands enclosed hers again.

"We've been called in. Armed blag at a bookies went tits up early this morning."

She snapped awake. "Anyone injured?"

"The blaggers are all dead and one member of the public."

A small frown of concern creased her forehead. "This is, what? The third armed robbery in two weeks?"

"Yes and all of them at bookies which were closed, too. The Sweeney had wind that this one was going down and someone must've fucked up big time if a member of the public and _all_ the blaggers are dead. Anyway, Ray doesn't know what's going on, but some serious looking head honchos have shown up and want to speak to us about it."

"Now?"

"Now."

She sighed again but reached up to trail her fingers down his face. "Thank you, love. Especially for dinner and everything since dinner. On Friday."

He leaned down and kissed her slowly. "32 hours of having you all to myself. Can't complain." He paused for a moment. "Except, of course, I will. How could they _do_ this to us?" He didn't exactly whine but it was close enough.

"Duty calls, sweetheart."

"Bugger duty. I want my woman. Warm… and clever … and sexy …" He punctuated his words with kisses, making her moan with approval. "Thank you too, lovely. It was fanbloodytastic. Not bad for a two month anniversary."

"Think of another anniversary for tonight," she replied, kissing him once more as she got out of bed. "Then we could celebrate all over again."

"Can we celebrate fish?"

She laughed. "I suppose so."

"Then I've got one already. Two months since we finally had Dover Sole."

"Hurrah for Dover Sole." Her eyes sparkled at him and giving him a warm smile, she vanished into the bathroom.

Gene flopped back onto the bed with contented sigh. Life was good.

* * *

Alex didn't have any work clothes with her so Gene left her at her flat as he hurried on into CID. They had arrived into work together a few times but it always went unnoticed. Most of the time they were the first in, so there was nobody around to see anyway. However, they still kept their private life very much to themselves and found that they enjoyed their working relationship all the more for it.

As she changed in her flat she thought back over the last two months. Although, she had to admit, their relationship was almost a year in the making and wasn't only two months old. Since first arriving in Fenchurch, she had practically spent every waking hour in Gene's company. Apart from a rare day off here and there, the longest they had been apart during the day was her twelve-hour stint in Manchester. As they had their waking hours well covered, they were making up for lost time on the sleeping part now. After the O'Brien case, Gene's spent his fortnight off sorting out his house during the day and making damn sure Alex was in his bed during the night.

It had been a memorable and special time between them, where all the annoyances of work were not allowed to intrude. Alex adamantly refused to talk about anything work related with him and he was barred from phoning the office. For the first time ever, Gene had a proper break and much to his surprise, he found he liked it. It would have been even better if Alex didn't have to leave each morning but they could always plan a holiday together soon.

She found that being acting-DCI wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be, largely because DI Crane stayed in CID to compile all the O'Brien case notes. While he was there, it was agreed that he would be the DI for CID. Ray and Chris were keen to help Alex as much as they could so they tolerated the ever so polite Crane. After all, he would probably be joining them full time so it would be best not to make an enemy of the man. They liked him well enough but his manner was rather standoffish. They didn't realise that all that was really wrong with DI Crane was that he was painfully shy. He couldn't make jokes, was always polite and was rather quiet. It took time to get to know him properly and so far, the only person who had succeeded, was Alex. The others, in a show of solidarity for CID, tolerated his rather fussy little ways and hoped that when the Guv returned, he'd shake Crane off his lofty perch.

Gene's absence was noticeable and everyone missed his commanding presence, but they adjusted, safe in the knowledge that the Guv would be back soon. Alex wondered how they would handle the news that soon Gene would not be their Guv at all.

Her eyes fell upon a new suit hanging in her wardrobe. They had bought it for him on Friday and he had left it in her flat because it was a reminder of what he was about to face. The suit was a three piece, which was bespoke from Norton & Sons and had taken six weeks to make. It was single breasted and made from the finest dark navy wool with a hint of a light blue pinstripe running through it. The waistcoat was backed with blue silk and he had also bought a blue shirt with a dark navy and blue silk tie. For such a beautiful suit, it was a shame that they had their first argument over it, just before he had returned to work after his break.

* * *

Gene had asked her to come with him to get a nice suit for his interview. He wanted something that was well made, so went to a menswear shop to pick out something but nothing was appropriate. He looked through the racks of suits with disdain, getting frustrated when everything he picked up looked cheap to him but the price said otherwise. So, she suggested they should leave the shop and go to Savile Row. Gene was horrified and he had, point blank, refused to even set foot on the street.

He shot her a disgusted look. "I'm no posh poofter and you can fuck off if you think you can dress me up like a fucking ponce.

Alex didn't react and bit the inside of her lip, placing a particularly nasty polyester suit back on the rail.

"Okay," she nodded calmly, even though she was inwardly seething. "You pick out what you like as you seem to know what you want after all. You've managed to find nice things before. Anyway, I've got to go and get my hair done. I'll see you later." She kissed him and left him standing in the shop without so much as a backwards glance. She didn't have to go to the hairdressers but she was furious, and hurt, and at that moment she simply had to get away from him.

Even though she'd sworn she'd never hit him again, Gene figured that a slap would have stung less than her soft kiss against his cheek. Feeling like a complete and utter bastard for snapping at her like that, he shoved the two jackets on to the nearest rail and left the shop.

..

They had an almost silent dinner in his kitchen that evening. Eventually, he fished in his pocket and pulled out two samples of dark navy fabric. "Pinstripe or plain?"

Alex looked at him over her wine glass. "What's this?"

"Sample whatsits from the tailors."

She took of sip of her wine. "I see. Whichever you prefer. They're both good."

"You're angry."

"Yes, and I'm also rather upset, if you must know."

Gene picked at his food. "Sorry, Bolls. I shouldn't have -"

"No, you shouldn't have."

He bit back an irate retort. "Don't do this…"

Alex said nothing for a moment. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. You say sorry and like a magic word, everything is fine with us?"

He sighed, irritation growing. "That's how it goes. I'm sorry and I mean it. We're fine. End of."

"Do you know what _fine_ is, Gene?"

He rolled his eyes and huffed. Bloody _women_.

Ale glared at him. "Fine means fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. There's your _fine_."

"And that's what you think I am? Cheers, Alex. Thanks." His scowl was so fierce she could hardly see his eyes beneath his brow.

She sighed in exasperation. He was still the same touchy Gene when he wanted to be. "I didn't say it about _you_. I was talking about _us_. Our relationship. You can't tear a strip off me in public like that, say you're sorry, and then state _we_ are fine. We're not fine and your apology is not accepted."

Gene bristled at her tone. "Fucking hell… what do you bloody want? On one hand, you say you want me but when I am me, you want something else. It's doing my fucking head in. Make up your mind and stop jerking me around."

She took a deep breath and willed herself not to lose the cool and give him the satisfaction. He was spoiling for a fight on his terms and that wasn't happening. "I don't think, Gene, that this is about what I want at all. It's about you and your crazy notion that I want you to change. As I recall, you asked me to go shopping with you. _You asked_. You saw nothing in that shop which was suitable, yet for a reason best known to yourself, you freaked out when I suggested Savile Row. It's the only place I know where we could find the type of suit you said you wanted. If that was somehow misconstrued as an insult to you then really, you should find a better way of expressing your annoyance, rather than embarrassing me and making me feel like a complete and utter idiot in the middle of a shop. I was only-"

"Enough, Alex" he said quietly, staring at the table.

Alex could see that her words had hit home. He could sit there and glower all he liked but she had made it clear that he was not to humiliate her like that again.

Gene still picked at his food and pushed bits of it around his plate. Alex calmly sipped her wine and continued with her meal, even though it nearly choked her to swallow.

"I can't be Evan White."

She shot him a dangerous look, thoroughly unimpressed with the petulant tone in his voice. She wasn't going to respond to that ridiculous comment. She knew he was looking for an ego boost and she wasn't about to coo over him and reassure him that he was the man she wanted. Utter nonsense. Her fork stabbed another pea and a piece of carrot. She was just about to raise it to her lips when his foot nudged her leg gently.

"None of my usual 'get out of jail free' cards are going to work here, are they?"

"No."

"I don't know why I snapped at you in that shop today."

"Not good enough." Alex knew that he had a reason for blowing up at her and she wasn't going to let this go until he told her what it was. She had been nothing but honest with him and told him that she was angry and upset. Told him why. The rest was up to him.

He sighed. "I can't -"

"You can."

Gene's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes. Fuck it. "I don't want them to see Gene Hunt dressed up in a posh suit, fooling nobody apart from himself. I'm not supposed to give a shit about this Superintendent job. At first I didn't want it but now I do. And because I do, I'm sure I won't get it. I'll be there, all dressed up, and they're going to turn me down flat because they can look right through the fancy clothes and see the liability. The blundering, clapped-out, Northern flatfoot that I am, dressed in clothes that are out of my league. I never even _knew_ a suit could be too posh for someone like me. Now, how fucking _pathetic_ is that? Manc Lion, my arse."

Her fingers curled around his and she held his hand gently for a long moment. "The pinstripe is lovely. It always did suit you the best."

"Alex-"

"That was all you ever had to say to me. I understand. Apology accepted."

He swallowed, seeing the supportive understanding in her eyes. "Thanks, Bolly. And I am sorry. Really."

She leaned across and kissed him. "Gene, you are going to get that promotion and you must believe in yourself. I wouldn't let anyone say those things about you. I can't let you say them about yourself either. Nothing is too good for you."

"But-"

"No buts, Superintendent Hunt. No ifs. No ands. No maybes. You are going to walk into that room as if you own it and don't walk out again until you get what you came for."

He smiled at her. "You have been listening to me after all."

"Now and again. But I don't intend to make a habit of it."

"Cheeky tart." His hand caught hers properly and he pulled her to her feet. "Dessert?"

"What's on the menu?"

"Lots of lovely sweeties," he grinned, his hands curving over her bum, pulling her against him.

"Mmmm… good. I love sweeties," she sighed into his neck and then giggled as he lifted her up. They never made it up the stairs and a trail of clothes marked their route from the kitchen to the sofa.

* * *

Now, six weeks later, Gene had his new suit. She ran her hand over the material and remembered it on him in the shop, the tailors fussing around him and snipping away any minuscule loose threads. He was beautiful, and her heart skipped a beat at the recollection. She knew he liked it too, even though he had banished it to her wardrobe.

Alex pulled on her white jacket and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. So this is what happiness looks like. She touched her fingertips to her own reflection, tracing the smile on her lips.

The phone rang, interrupting her musings and she reached around to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"_Drake_?"

She jumped at the volume. "En route, Guv."

"Via fucking Paris, is it? No wonder you're taking your own sweet time… Jesus…" Gene griped and slammed the phone down.

Alex laughed. God help her but she loved him. Maybe they wouldn't be too long in the office and maybe, if she was very lucky, she could tempt that irascible DCI into trying on his suit for her this evening. The phone rang again and she could practically feel the impatient vibes from it. Wise to that particular trick and knowing that it would undoubtedly cost her an eardrum if she answered it, she left it ringing and vanished out the door.

.oOo.


	2. Prusom Street

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: One picky turn deserves another. Many thanks to Lucida Bright for being a super (and super fast) beta reader.

* * *

"Ah, DCI Hunt. Good of you to come in on a Sunday," said Detective Chief Superintendent Robertson. Gene couldn't stand the man. He swanked into any station, as if he was Lord God Almighty, spouted off some public relations bollocks, and disappeared back to his hidey hole in the Yard. A real pain in the arse.

Good of me to come in on a Sunday? You have no fucking idea, shithead. "Hope I can help, Sir," he replied, the sarcasm evident. "My office?"

"Will DI Drake be joining us?" asked Robertson, ushering in two other officers ahead of him. Gene knew them both. Two DCIs from the Flying Squad, Mick McGary and Tony Leddin. This must be serious.

"She'll be here soon," replied Gene, surveying the three men before him. "What's the problem, gentlemen?"

"These armed robberies, Gene. Most concerning," said Robertson.

Gene nodded slowly. "We do what we can, Sir."

"I'm sure you do. Flying Squad does what it can too. As does Branch. As does the Yard. See where I'm going with this?"

"Not quite, Sir." Smug fucker.

"With everyone 'doing what they can' nobody is seeing the bigger picture. Which is where you come in. Or, at least, where DI Drake comes in."

Gene glowered. "DI Drake has already refused a request to move to Special -"

"I'm not talking about Branch, Gene," said Robertson. "These two gentlemen here are from the Flying Squad. DCI Michael McGary and DCI Anthony Leddin. They need a criminal psychologist to sort this mess out and the only person we've got on the books who fits that description is DI Drake. So, now that I've done the necessary introductions, I trust that I can leave you all to sort out what needs to be done."

"We'll do our best, Sir. It depends on what DI Drake wants."

"Ah. That's the other thing. We need to be proactive on this. I'm ordering DI Drake to transfer; sort out the finer details of her location and job specification with Flying Squad. Drake is still your DI and you'll get her back soon enough. Anyway, your Superintendent tells me you have another DI, so it's not like I've left you short handed."

Gene felt as if someone had just pulled the rug out from under him. "Sir, I need DI Drake here. She's -"

"She has a week to hand over her cases to your other DI. My decision is made, Gene. Make it happen."

Make it happen? Okay, you Miami Vice watching dickhead. I won't forget this. "Of course, Sir."

Anyone who knew Gene would know that the glint in his eye meant you were a dead man. Robertson didn't know Gene, so it was lost on him.

"Good. Thank you, Gene. Good day, gentlemen." He nodded at the other two DCIs and exited the office.

"Christ, he's every bit the prick I heard he was," said McGary after the DCS had left the outer office.

Leddin chimed in, "Uptight wanker. Sorry, Gene. We didn't think he was going to do that."

"Does he even know that we know each other?" asked McGary.

"Apparently not, the dozy git. How're things in the Sweeney? More to the point, which one of you fucked it up this morning?"

"Oh ha, ha," said Leddin sarcastically.

Gene shrugged. "And now there's a big mess. So what do you want my DI for?"

"It'd be best to go over it with her here," said McGary, drumming his fingers on Gene's desk impatiently.

That was when Gene snatched up the phone and barked at her. Anything to drown out that fidgety finger noise. Sure enough, Alex materialised in CID in under four minutes, looking fresh as a daisy.

"Good of you to drop in at last, Drake," said Gene, when she eventually clattered into his office, dragging her chair in after her.

"No worries, Guv," she grinned, completely unfazed, after she had introduced herself. "Now, what's going on? Did I just see DCS Robertson leave the building?"

Gene got right down to business. No point in prolonging the agony. "Our Master and Commander has decreed that you are to be deployed to the Flying Squad, as from now," he said, hating to be the one to have to tell her. "You're to do your head-shrinky thing and look at these blags we've been experiencing. Look at 'the bigger picture' and see if there's a link."

"I'm – I'm leaving?" she asked, stunned.

"Only for a while, DI Drake," said McGary. "We just need someone to get a handle on what's going on. Someone who can put the whole thing together."

"Do I have a choice?" she asked, eyes on Gene.

"None, Alex. Sorry. Robertson ordered it."

She nodded slowly. "And where am I to go?"

"I can set you up in an office at the Yard," said Leddin. "You don't report to Mick or to me. Gene is still your DCI. We just need you to look through all these cases for us to try and establish a link, or links, if there is more than one. When you're done, we need a few briefing sessions. Then you can come back here. We didn't expect the DCS to transfer you out and that wasn't what we looked for. Both of us will support your deployment back here, if that's what you want, when this is closed."

Alex swallowed. "When do you want me to start?"

"Robertson gave you a week to hand over your cases to Crane," explained Gene. "So Monday week, you move to the Yard."

She shifted uncomfortably. "The Flying Squad? I don't know, Guv…"

"You won't come on any operations with us," reassured Leddin. "That isn't part of the deal."

McGary continued. "It's case analysis work, DI Drake. But the cases we need you to look at are mostly Flying Squad cases so that's why we're here. Patterns, links, crossovers, all that sort of stuff. Someone has to take the lot and join up the dots. Not the most exciting stuff in the world but you've got training in this that none of us have. We'd appreciate your assistance on this."

"Considering this has been dropped on her, what does Alex get out of this, apart from your much valued appreciation?" Gene glowered at them.

Leddin had been waiting for that question and addressed Alex. "We'll get you a special commendation from the Commissioner, regardless of what you find. If you establish a link for us, you're on your way to promotion. This is a big case, Alex. You'd be helping out at least eight districts."

McGary chimed in, "Robertson is gone off to scare up some funds for a cost centre. I think he won't find any problem, so you'll have secretarial support."

She nodded thoughtfully. As orders went, this wasn't a bad one to get. Regardless of what happened, her time in the Yard wouldn't be for nothing.

"Can I chose someone for the secretariat?" she asked.

Leddin shook his head. "We've someone in mind-"

Gene interrupted, "Alex has someone in mind too. Who is it?"

"WPC Sharon Granger."

"A WPC from here?" interjected Leddin. "Sorry, Alex. No. There's a WPC in the Yard who's already familiar with these cases. WPC Rona Blakely. You'll find her very efficient."

Alex didn't agree. "I-"

McGary stood up. "Sorry, DI Drake. That's all we can do for you, given the current circumstances. We look forward to working with you. Gene, apologies that Robertson transferred Alex out; I'll try to put that right in due course."

"There's no try about it, Mick," grumbled Gene. "My team has been broken up and that _will_ be put right."

The other man nodded. "I'll do my best. Okay folks, we had best be off. The morning's catastrophe has to be written up."

Everyone said their goodbyes and Gene saw the two DCIs out, avoiding Ray's curious stare of interest. He returned to Alex in his office as soon as he could.

Her glum look mirrored how he felt. No matter what happened now, he and Alex would never work together again. Their days of tearing around London in the Quattro were coming to a rapid end. She'd be in the Yard, for who knows how long, and he'd be a Superintendent by the time she got back.

"It was always going to end some day, Bolly," he said, handing her a glass of whisky.

"Just wish it was our choice, rather than have the decision made for us," she replied, clinking her glass against his. "Cheers, Guv. I'm going to rather miss you."

He smiled at her. "And you, Bolls. You're not bad for a posh bird, really. In fact, I quite like you."

She saw the twinkle in his eye. "Amazingly, I quite like you too. Um... might you be free later? We could go out for lunch or dinner, if you like. Or not. Whichever. No pressure."

He played along, shuffling his feet and nervously biting his lip. Alex could have kissed him right there and then. "Are you asking me out, Bolly?"

"I suppose I am."

He gulped his drink down in one go and plonked the glass on the desk. "I've no plans for today."

"None?"

"Well..."

"I don't want to ruin your Sunday, Guv."

"My Sunday was ruined when I answered my fucking phone this morning. My plan _was_ to stay in bed with this gorgeous sexy bird I've been seeing. But she booted me out to work and now I'm stuck with you."

"So, dinner then? My treat?"

He pretended as if he was giving the matter serious thought. "Okay. Just no funny business, Drake. I know what you're like."

She leaned close to him and whispered in a low tone. "Mmmm. And you know what I like." Her hand crept over his thigh.

He gulped. "Jesus... Bolls. How soon can we get out of here?"

Alex took her hand away much to his disappointment. "As soon as we figure out what I need to leave in David's in-tray."

Gene nodded and getting up from his chair he walked swiftly out to the main office. Crossing to Alex's desk, he scanned it quickly. It was packed with paperwork. "Where's Crane sitting these days?"

Ray pointed to a tiny desk with a few files that had been shoved in beside Shaz's. Gene dragged it so it fitted beside Alex's. Then he switched the two nameplates around.

"There, Bolly. All done. Let's go."

She laughed at his solution. "Guv, we can't -"

"What's to figure out? He's the DI for CID now. All of this is his problem, not yours."

Ray looked up. "You leavin' us, Boss?"

Alex looked at Gene and he nodded. May as well tell him. "Yes, Ray. Next Monday."

"What the _fuck_?" Ray leapt to his feet. "Why?"

"Bollinger Knickers here has been ordered to spend a while unpicking a mess left by the Sweeney," explained Gene, a pang sweeping through him. Saying it out loud made it seem real. Alex was leaving.

"But... you're our Boss," exclaimed Ray, as if that made everything right again.

Alex smiled at him. "I don't think they really care about that, Ray."

Ray glanced from Gene to Alex and back again. "How long'll this be for?"

"As long as it takes," sighed Gene. "We have to face facts, Raymondo. When a team starts to get results, everyone wants a slice. In the meantime, DI Crane -"

"Oh Christ," muttered Ray, lighting a fag.

Gene shot him a look. "I swear Ray, if you've got a problem with DI Crane, I'll fucking staple you to that desk. Do you detest every DI who isn't you?"

Ray backed off. "It's not that, Guv. Honest it's not. Crane is just a bit... fussy. And not in a good way like you are, Boss."

Alex bit back a laugh. "It takes time to know DI Crane, Ray. But he's a very competent officer and has a lot of experience. You'll be fine."

"Won't be the same without you, Boss."

"A lot of things won't be the same," said Gene, shrugging into his jacket. "Okay, Raymondo, we're out of here. Next time a bunch of twats come in here looking for me on my day off _don't_ call me." He clapped Ray on the shoulder in parting.

"Bye, Ray," said Alex, giving his arm a squeeze. She left the office with Gene, the doors swinging shut behind them.

"Bye, Boss," he replied and slumped into his chair. It wasn't fair. Just when he was used to her fruitcake ways, as the Guv called it, he was lumbered with another headcase DI. Crane reminded Ray of Gil Hollis, especially the way all his pencils were kept sharpened and straight in his desk tidy. Plus the way his phone had to line up with his nameplate. Ray got up, put Crane's nameplate at an angle on Alex's desk, turned a few of his pencils around the wrong way, and went to make himself a cuppa.

* * *

"Where could we go for a good lunch on a Sunday, Gene? Should we -"

Gene stared at her as if she was crazy. "Get that arse of yours into the car, pronto."

"Yes, Guv," she grinned at him and slid into the passenger seat.

He sped off, tyres squealing as the Quattro leapt forward.

"I take it you have somewhere in mind?"

"You don't want to know what's in my mind," he smiled at her as he swung the car around the corner. Driving as if he was aiming to win the Grand Prix, he was home in no time and had perfected the technique of braking just in time for the car to stop, four inches from the wall of the house. Alex always shut her eyes for that bit. He climbed out of the driver's seat, opened Alex's door for her and helped her out.

"Want to come in, Drake?" he asked, key poised at the hall door, her hand still clasped in his.

"Is that 'gorgeous sexy bird' you're seeing around?"

"Hope so. You'll like her lots. I promise."

She laughed and followed him inside. Once the front door shut, he scooped her up. "Gotcha."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him happily. "Are you going to carry me all the way up these stairs?"

"With no food in me? Even I don't have the strength for that, Bolly," he teased; setting her down, he led her through to the kitchen where they shared a leisurely breakfast.

He caught Alex smiling at him. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of toast.

"Have you finished?"

"Sure am," he replied. "Got all my strength back too."

"Lucky me," she grinned, reaching for him, expecting to be swept off her feet.

She was. Before she knew what happened, he heaved her over his left shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Ah, Gene!" She cried out at the unromantic gesture as he slowly made his way up the stairs to the bedroom.

He patted her bum with his free hand. "Nearly there, love. Just a few... more... steps... and... bloody hell... you're heavier than you look... oopsy daisy!" Alex landed on the bed with such a bounce, she nearly flew off it. She grabbed at his arm to steady herself and pulled him down beside her. Gene tried to escape but she was too quick and pinned him down.

"You're in for it, Mister," she grinned and tickled him.

He laughed loudly and squirmed as she attacked him, not trying too hard to free himself at all.

"You always make me plead for mercy," she said, still tickling for all the good it was doing. Gene evidently loved it.

He gently caught her wrists and kept her hands off his body. "I don't have to plead. I'm always at your mercy, Bolly."

Her heart leapt at his words. "I don't think that's quite the same thing," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

"I don't care," he replied eventually, letting her wrists go as his hands found the soft, warm skin of her lower back, fingers slipping under the waistband of her jeans.

Clothes were shed at quite a rate after that, both of them collapsing in giggles when her bra ended up dangling from the overhead lightshade.

"We should leave it there," he said dryly. "As a matter of fact, it would look much better if I did this." He tossed her knickers up after it and they caught on the other side. "Bullseye!" he cried in triumph.

"I am _not_ going on that stupid game show with you, no matter how hard you practice," she laughed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him down to her.

"Oh _please_, Bolly. You'll love it," he teased, kissing her.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell," she replied catching his boxers and throwing them towards the lightshade. She missed by at least three feet.

He turned to look over his shoulder at his boxers flying towards the door. "Yeah. On second thoughts – you throw like a girl."

"I am a girl, Gene."

"Thank Christ for that," he whispered, nuzzling at her breast. "All curvy. And bouncy."

His light kisses were tickling her. "Get off," she giggled lowly.

"No way," he replied, continuing to make her squirm and laugh. He loved this mood they were in, playful and happy, and he wanted to prolong it for as long as he could. Hearing her giggle, feeling her soft arms around him, gentle hands trying to tease him too, knowing she could make him laugh – Gene had never experienced this sort of thing before. Yet with Alex, it wasn't even an effort. It felt natural, as if they had been doing this for so long, that they knew what the other wanted, almost instinctively. She wanted to keep the playful mood going and he was more than happy to comply. So he would stop kissing her or exploring her body for a moment or two, tell her a filthy joke or make some cheeky comment, which would make her laugh even louder and then he would begin again.

She sighed into his neck, fingers raking through his hair, a glowing happy feeling running through her. Gene reached for one of her hands and caught it in his own, kissing the inside of her palm. She felt her heart doing that strange leaping thing again. She knew what it was now – she was falling a little bit more in love with him each time it happened.

He felt her gaze fix on him and the subtle shift in the giggly atmosphere. "What, Bolls?"

She reached out to brush at a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. "I love you. Very much."

He held her head gently between his hands and gazed at her fondly. "How did I ever get so lucky?" he whispered. "I love you too, pet. Always have."

"Not always, surely?" she said, smiling at him.

"Well, okay. Not always. And don't call me Shirley," he kissed her mouth which was just about to form a groan at the awful joke. "But the very second you first put your hand on my heart, I knew."

"That you loved me?" she whispered softly, eyes filling.

"No, you daft tart. I knew that I had to grab a hold of this." Eyes full of mischief, his hand shot up and covered her left breast, squeezing it gently.

This time Alex didn't bat his hand away and kissed him instead, winding her legs and arms around him, holding him closer to her. He took his time, they were in no hurry, and he wanted their weekend to end as it had started. Slowly, gently and so tenderly, he made love to her trying to show her that she was all he ever wanted.

"I'm not going anywhere, Gene," she breathed in his ear at one point. "Work is work. I'll still be here with you."

She could see through him like a pane of glass. It spooked him at times. "Promise?" he asked, surprised that his own voice sounded so small.

"Promise, love," she said clearly, staring straight into his eyes. "Promise. Always, Shirley."

He laughed again. "I'll hold you to that, you wicked woman."

"Good... oh _God_... don't stop... that."

"That?"

She moaned in response, clutching at his shoulders, all her clever words and coherent thoughts vanishing from her mind as her entire body tingled. So he didn't stop, not until they both collapsed in a heap of happy, sated exhaustion. He curled into her side and before he fell asleep, the last thing he remembered as he placed his head on her shoulder, was Alex softly running her fingers through his hair.

* * *

The next week was a flurry of activity. Alex spent half her day in Fenchurch and then she would take the Tube to the Yard for the other half. David Crane wasn't exactly thrilled with the amount of paperwork that had suddenly landed on his head but he made the best of it. Gene was in rather crotchety form with everyone, hating to see his team disturbed and hating it even more that Alex was the one who was shipping out. To top it all off, his interview for the Superintendent's job was on Saturday and he was trying his hardest to come up with some useful suggestions and strategies. In the evenings, Alex helped him as much as she could but even she could see that she was out of her depth. All she could do was be a sounding board and even that wasn't much use. Gene knew exactly what could and could not work and he got irritated with himself when all his work just looked like the meandering scribbles of a two year old. It was difficult, trying to sound coherent and competent about the job when, even though he genuinely wanted it, he wanted his current job more. He wanted to be DCI Gene Hunt, with Alex, Ray and Chris in tow, sorting out London scum the best way he knew how. He didn't want to spend the last few days with his full team, fretting about case handovers and stumbling around Chris in the office.

Chris annoyed him with his "little puppy lost" look as he kept following Alex around, notebook clutched anxiously in his hand, bombarding her with all sorts of questions and queries. Gene had booted him and Ray out to go scare up informants and see if they could do something useful to assist in the armed robbery cases. Anything was better than having Chris underfoot. Ray was surprisingly tolerant of all the activity. Usually, he hated it when he wasn't allowed to lounge at his desk, feet propped up by the drawer and fag dangling from his lips. But Ray wasn't a moron. He sensed that he had better do something to get out of the Guv's way and if trekking around the town and knocking a few heads together would do the trick, then he was all for it.

On Thursday he and Chris bounded into the office with news for Alex.

"We think we've got a snout who might know something, Boss," beamed Chris, delighted that they had uncovered something.

Ray glared at him. Bloody Chris. Always stealing his thunder. "Yeah, Boss. Richard Daniels, otherwise known as Tricky Dick, a mechanic down in Prusom Street in Shadwell. Known for reselling stolen vehicles and fencing stolen goods."

"Plus, he's a nonce," chimed in Chris.

Alex gave him a brief smile. "Who's snout is he?"

"Mine," boomed Gene from his office. "Little scrote. Right, boys and girls. One last jaunt in the Quattro. All aboard!"

Ray and Chris were out the door in a heartbeat and Gene hurried Alex out in front of him, ignoring her protests about files and paperwork. "Bollocks to it, Bolly. Real police work to do. Let's go."

* * *

"What the _fuck_?" came the astonished cry from under a Ford.

Gene grabbed the man by the ankles and pulled Tricky Dick out from under the car, the mechanic's trolley groaning with the sudden velocity, as Tricky and trolley went careening into a tool chest across the floor, spanners hailing down.

"Hunt, you fuckin' lunatic!" screamed Tricky, as a hammer landed near his head. He rolled off the trolley and landed on Gene's boot. Gene pulled his boot free, rolling the man over with his free foot. Tricky cried out in fake pain.

"Oh, shut your whimpering, Tricky," he growled and bending down, he grabbed the man by the front of his dungarees and hauled him to his feet, shoving him back against the tool chest.

"What do you want wi' me?" asked the panicked man. Gene Hunt never came calling unless something was up.

"Armed blag on Grosvenor's bookies. Speak."

Tricky shook his head. "Nothing, Mr Hunt. I've 'eard nothing."

"Bollocks." Gene picked up the largest spanner he could see. "Start talking, Tricky, or this spanner here is going to twist a very different type of nut."

Tricky looked to Ray for some sign that Gene was kidding. Ray popped his gum and chewed, a small menacing smile just about visible. His eyes turned towards Alex but she had her back to the proceedings and Chris was standing near the garage door. He was out of options and felt Gene's grip getting tighter around his upper arm.

"I'll have a bruise! I'll call your Super!"

"I couldn't give a shite," snapped Gene, punching the man swiftly in the middle. Tricky heaved over, winded and gasping. Alex turned at the sound of the punch and glared but Gene ignored her.

"I don't know… anything…" wheezed Tricky.

That earned him an eye-watering slap.

Alex couldn't take it. "DCI Hu-"

"Not now," barked Gene at her and grabbed the back of Tricky's neck and squeezed. "Start talking, you nonce, or me and Raymondo get to work with the business end of this spanner."

Tricky decided that the right thing to do would be to save his neck. "Okay! Okay!" he gasped and Gene released him.

"Well?"

Massaging his neck, he shot a resentful look at Gene but started to talk. "Okay. I don't know the blokes name, yeah? But he had a new-ish green Ford Transit. Asked me to switch the plates. Gave me fifty quid for no questions asked."

"Where are the plates you took off?"

"I scrapped 'em, didn't I? Put 'em through the metal mangler. The letters at the start were YOI with four numbers but I can't remember what they were."

"YOI?" asked Chris, the car geek.

"Yes, honest," nodded Tricky.

"And what plates did you put on it?" asked Gene.

"New ones. XBF 39IW"

"They don't make any sense," chimed in Chris.

"I wasn't asked to make 'em authentic. I just made 'em up."

Gene nudged Ray to take out a notebook. "You got a description of the man?"

"Come on, Mr Hunt. It'd be more than my life is wo– _AHH_!! Okay. Okay…" Gene took the spanner away. "Uh. 'E was a big, skinny bloke. 'Bout your height, maybe an inch or two taller. Dark hair. Black. Had a moustache. That's all I know. I swear it."

Gene let him go with a shove. "I'm watching you, Tricky. You so much as put an eyelash out of line, I'll fucking do you for every kiddie rape in this city. Get me?"

"I'm not like that anymore, Mr-"

Gene's hand shot out and caught Daniels by the neck. "Get me?" His fingers squeezed non too gently.

"Got you," gasped Tricky, seeing that Gene was deadly serious.

"Good. And if you hear from or see that man again, who are you going to call?"

"You. Immediately." There was a choking, gurgling sound.

"Not immediately, Tricky. What did we discuss before?"

The other man couldn't answer and was beginning to turn blue. Alex's eyes bored into Gene's.

Let him go. Now.

Tricky slid down the wall, gasping for air. "I call you from the pub when he coast is clear and I say that your Uncle Bert is sick. Then I meet you within the hour at the King & Crown."

"And don't you bloody forget it," glowered Gene. "I'll be expecting your call, Tricky. Do NOT fuck me about on this."

"I won't. I swear."

"For all that's worth," spat Gene and with a final disgusted look at the mechanic, he swung around and marched towards the car. Chris and Ray were delighted with the information and Chris was eager to start chasing up the "YOI" car registration lead. The frosty silence from Alex, however, spoke volumes.

* * *

When they reached the station, she followed him into his office and closed the door behind them with a determined bang. "That was completely uncalled for, Guv. You didn't need to do that."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. You punched him, kicked him, threatened him and half strangled him! What the hell is wrong with you? One last punch for DCI Hunt or something?"

"Tell you what, Alex. Look up nonce and kiddie raper in the dictionary. Then get back to me."

"It doesn't matter what he did. He served-"

"Before you say another word, DI Drake, take this," he shoved a large file at her, "Now, sit down and read. I'm getting a brew and have it read by the time I get back." He walked out of the office and disappeared into the kitchenette. God, but she could drive him up the wall at times. He banged his way through numerous cupboards before he found the biscuits. With a cuppa and a fag in hand, sports papers in front of him, and a plate of biscuits to munch through, he stayed where he was for an hour and everyone had the sense to stay away.

"Gene?" came Alex's soft voice from behind him.

He took his feet down from the table and folded up his paper, looking around at her.

"He never spent so much as an hour in prison. How..."

He shrugged.

"But the case was watertight. Everything... I don't understand."

"Someone let that prick walk free, Bolly. I inherited him as a snout. Super told me he'd be very useful to keep on side. But I can't figure out what's so damn special about a sick, twisted fucker like Daniels."

"Is his information good?"

"Solid. Every time, apparently."

"So..."

"So, I use him when I have to. Even though he doesn't want to talk to me."

"I don't remember you using him before."

"I did twice for a case. Before your time."

Alex realised something. "You used him to get information for me."

Gene stared at the ground. "Desperate times, and all that, Bolls."

"Oh, Gene," she said softly, her hand reaching out to stoke his cheek briefly. "Thank you."

He caught her hand before she pulled it away and kissed her palm, his eyes meeting hers.

"Guv! Phone!" called Ray from the office.

He rolled his eyes and smiled at her. "You can thank me properly later."

"Hey, I _did_ thank you properly. What more do want?" she twinkled at him.

"I want-"

"Phone, Guv!" bellowed Ray.

"I heard you the first time!" he roared back, as he stalked out to the office and snatched the receiver from Ray. "Gimme, you twat."

Ray jumped out of striking distance as Gene held a strained conversation with the Super. He saw a smiling Alex leave the kitchen. Fuck. So, that's what he'd interrupted? Ray went down to the front desk to annoy Viv before Gene got off the phone.

* * *

"Thank fuck they decided to hold this thing on a Saturday," he said, bending down to tie his shoelace. He straightened up and readjusted his tie. It felt as if it was choking him. He tugged at it impatiently and it bunched up under his waistcoat. He'd never last a day in this get up. There was a farewell dinner for Alex in Luigi's this evening but first... but first...

She said nothing and reached for him, fixing the tie and waistcoat comfortably. Then she helped him into his jacket and stood back.

She gave a low wolf whistle. "Good God, Gene. Talk about dressed to kill! Is it wrong that I just want you out of that suit right now so I can shag the life out of you?" she smiled, teasing him in light hearted humour.

He also had news shoes and socks, had his hair cut and it looked more blonde than usual. The suit accentuated his broad shoulders and had been cut perfectly around the waist. Her stomach flipped in appreciation.

Given her obvious approval and the sultry look she was giving him, he stared at the floor in embarrassment as a shy grin appeared. "Steady on, Bolls."

"Why, Mr Hunt! You're blushing," she said and she placed her arms around his neck.

"Am not," he replied, lifting his head up. His eyes met hers and she stared into their blue depths.

"It'll be all right, love. You look the part and you know what you have to say, so go in there and show them that they made the right choice."

Gene closed his eyes and a wave of nervousness swept over him. "Bloody hell, my heart is pounding. Christ…"

She reached under the lapel of his jacket a gently placed her hand over his racing heart. "Shush…" she soothed. "Deep breaths."

He could feel her breathing slowly next to him, willing him to calm down. Gene remembered the last time this nervous apprehensiveness swept through him. It was the morning of his wedding when he was seriously tempted to do a runner. It had been Stuart who calmed him down then and told him to stop snivelling like a Jessie and be a man. _Time to grow up, Genie Boy. Good things'll happen out of all this. You'll see._ Poor Stuey. Fuck the fucking drugs that killed his brother. Time to be a man. He clasped his arms around Alex's waist and held her close for a moment before releasing her.

"What?" she asked, seeing him smile.

"Good things will happen."

"They will."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, Bolly. Here goes nothing."

He had already said that he didn't want her to come with him but she thought she had better check as he still had her hand clenched in his. "I can wait for you in CID, if you'd rather -"

"No. I'd want get in and get out as quickly as I can. I'll come straight back here."

She nodded. "I'll be waiting."

He gave her hand one last gentle squeeze and let go. She handed him his briefcase, the first time he ever carried one, and gave him a quick kiss.

The door closed and Alex whispered softly to herself. "Goodbye, Guv."

.oOo.


	3. Across the Road

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Many thanks to Lucida Bright for being the best (and busiest) beta reader in town. There are more chapters to come over the next few days.

* * *

Alex dragged an armchair over to the window and curled up in it. From her vantage point, she had a clear view of the entrance to the station. Biting her lip nervously, she looked at the clock on the far wall. Almost eleven. He'd be sitting outside the Chief Super's office now.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. She focused on the clock, never realising it ticked so loudly before. Two minutes. Three.

She hoped her anxiousness hadn't shown this morning; she had tried to be calm and reassuring for his sake but it wasn't easy. This interview before the promotions board was no friendly chat. Gene had previously turned down promotion, twice, and now he was in there saying that he had changed his mind. Alex took a deep breath and opened the window to let in some fresh summer air. It was a beautiful July morning with slightly more traffic about than usual. The train drivers had gone on strike and all services had been suspended. Bloody Thatcher. She sighed loudly – she'd already had this argument with Ray, more times than she could count. He was a Thatcher supporter, all fired up over the Falklands War, and she couldn't take it.

"War is war, Ray. For Christsakes, the Falklands? Before all of this nonsense, 99% of us couldn't even find it on a bloody map."

"That's not the point. We've found it now and we'll show them Argi bastards a thing or two."

"Ray-"

"Oh, will you shut up! _Both of you_."

The last bit was from Gene. Their constant bickering over the war had him worn out; he had banned anyone from mentioning the Falklands within his hearing. And if they did, he was going to make them eat the giant map Ray had pinned up in the cafeteria; put there to ensure everyone could find Argentina. Gene wasn't kidding either. Alex was somewhat grateful for the ban until she discovered it extended to home also.

He had stuck his fingers in his ears, actually sang "la, la, la, can't hear you, la, la, la" until she stopped talking about it. After a few rounds of this, she got the message. Gene was not risking his peaceful home life arguing. "No religion, politics or bloody women. Thatcher could turn Moonie in the morning and I'm not discussing it, especially not with a bleeding-heart, lefty-liberal, sex-on-legs, brain-almighty like yourself. End of, Bolly. Now, who'd you get in the World Cup office pool?"

When Alex showed him her little slip of paper with Argentina on it, he choked on his pink wafer, spraying the kitchen table with crumbs.

She smiled as she thought about it. He could be so funny at times and on occasion made her laugh so hard she had to dash for the bathroom. Which always made him laugh even harder. Once, when she returned from a frantic scurry to the loo, she found him creased with laughter, tears streaming down his face, hardly able to breath. That was the thing about Gene, he was a lot funnier and more light-hearted than she could ever have imagined. All had taken was time and patience and he was a different man. He was still very much the Guv at work but with her, he was leaning to relax, talk, smile and let the lighter aspects of his personality emerge. He also wasn't afraid to show her his softer side, knowing that she wouldn't tease him about it or use it against him. Their relationship was very private to them both and their closeness was largely unnoticed by the team. So, at work he was the Guv, she was the Boss, and they were coping. At home, like he had promised her that first morning together, they were Gene and Alex and they were learning to cope with that too.

Alex thought she saw someone leave the station and she sat up with a start but it was only a PC off out on his beat. She settled back into her chair again, wondering how these new changes in their professional lives would impact upon their relationship. She was used to Gene as her Guv and she didn't want that to change. On the other hand, she wanted only good things for him and he deserved to be a Superintendent, so she wanted support him. As for herself, she wanted to stay in Fenchurch East but she also wanted the chance to do some real criminal psychology and for it to be taken seriously. Who knows where that could lead? She was torn as to what she wanted the most but she knew that above all else, she wanted Gene. Whatever happened, their jobs were only one aspect of their lives. As long as they were together, everything would be all right.

She sighed and looked at the clock again. He'd only been gone for 40 minutes and it felt like an eternity. Alex started on her fingernails.

**

* * *

  
**

Gene tried not to look too relieved. "Thank you, gentlemen."

"Thank you, DCI Hunt. I'm sure it's hard for you to appreciate but that was quite the enjoyable and enlightening conversation. Well done," said Commander Willis. "We'll be in touch. Have you any other questions for us?"

"Only one, Sir. How soon can I expect to hear from you?"

"This evening."

Gene did a double take. "This evening?"

Superintendent William McKenna, the man who had started this whole thing, spoke up. "No point in beating about the bush Gene. We've two more interviews to get through today and we'll be able to make our decision by this evening. Expect a call around seven. If you would leave a contact number with my secretary on your way out, I'd appreciate it. I know you have another engagement this evening."

The Chief Superintendent from Fenchurch raised his eyebrows. "Ah, yes. DI Drake's last supper. Wish her the very best from me, Gene, please."

"Will do, Sir. Goodbye," Gene shook hands with everyone, nodded stiffly, and let himself out of the room. Leaving the number to Alex's flat with the secretary, he moved on autopilot through the station. Following his usual route down the stairs to CID he remembered just in the nick of time that he didn't want anyone to see him all dressed up and holding a briefcase. So he continued all the way to the basement and let himself out the fire escape at the back. He opened the case and fumbled through the various files until he found his favourite cigarellos underneath the pile. Leaning against the door to the boiler house (after first checking it wasn't grotty) he lit up and inhaled deeply, willing himself to calm down. The adrenaline still coursed through him and not even two of his best fags helped. Flicking the last butt into a puddle, he watched as it extinguished with a hiss and, taking a deep breath, he headed towards the side of the building and Alex's flat.

She was still fixated on the front entrance, all her nails bitten to nothing, when she saw him crossing the road near the traffic lights and heading toward her. She jumped up from the chair and flinging the door open, she bounded down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. Almost shoulder charging the door at the foot of the stairs, she stumbled out on to the footpath to see Gene only a few paces away.

He smiled at her and she ran forward, flinging her arms around his neck. "Well done, my love," she whispered, smiling up at him.

He kissed her and held her close. "It went fine, Bolls. Sorry to keep you waiting. I needed a fag or two."

"I'll bet," she replied. "I'm so happy for you."

He laughed his voice gravelly. "Haven't got the job yet."

"Yes, you have," she replied with certainty. "When will they let you know?"

"This evening. They told me to expect a call at seven."

"Wow. They can make a rapid decision after all," she grinned up at him.

"Whoever would've thought it?" he smiled back, kissing her again. "Now, why don't we go indoors before we give Luigi and the missus an eyeful?"

"After you, Superintendent Hunt," she replied, pulling the door open for him.

"No, no. After you, Detective Inspector Drake."

"Please, I insist."

"No, _I_ insist. I get to stare at your arse this way."

She huffed. "And I get to stare at yours the other way. So, after you."

"We have a real dilemma on our hands now," he mused, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "We can't both –"

"If you show me yours, I'll show you mine. Without the jeans. Come to think of it, without anything." Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

He charged up the stairs and she followed at his heels, reaching out to pinch his bum as they reached the top step.

"Oi!" he cried and pulled her into his arms. "That wasn't part of the deal."

Alex laughed but sensed, from the way he wrapped his arms around her, that he wasn't quite in the mood for teasing. She stepped out of his embrace after a moment and led him into the flat, shutting the door behind them.

He sagged against the door, took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"You go and change. It'll help you relax. Would you like a cuppa?" she asked, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"I could murder one," he replied, slowly coming down from his adrenaline high and beginning to feel absolutely knackered. "It's all over with. Can't quite believe it." His eyes landed on the couch. It looked so comfortable.

"Come on," she said and gently steered him into the bedroom. She helped him hang up his suit properly and rather than put it back into the wardrobe, she hung it from the curtain rail and opened the window.

"What are you doing that for?" he asked, putting on a casual white shirt he kept for lounging around.

"It'll clear the smoke from it," she replied, smoothing down his tie. "Plus, it'll be good to let the fabric breath a bit.

He buckled the belt on his jeans and rolled his eyes. Women.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Gene Hunt," she said playfully, her back towards him as she adjusted the waistcoat on a hanger.

He saluted.

"I know what you're doing."

"Jesus, you've eyes at the back of your head," he griped and moving around to her he slid his arms around her waist again and tugged her back onto the bed with him, not giving her a chance to protest, as if she would.

Wriggling around to face him, she moved until his head was on her shoulder and she could gently caress his hair. "It's all over now, love," she whispered.

He closed his eyes. "Don't want it to be over, Alex. I don't want to leave CID and I don't want you to go either. I told them that too."

"You did?" she kept her voice low even if his answer did alarm her somewhat. You didn't go for a job and then tell them you didn't actually want it.

"Yeah. Told them it was a mistake to take you away from active cases. That your hippy psychtwattery was of better use to those of us at the coalface of crime. You have a knack of knowing how folk tick and it's proven to be bloody useful on occasion. It was one of my proposals. That the Met should train up more people like you but not for offices and profiling old cases. Put you out on the streets, interviewing suspects, negotiating in hostage situations, showing the rest of us how the criminals think; shit like that. But that shoving you into a office wasn't the way to use your training to its best advantage."

His answer surprised her. "You said all that?"

"'Course. They wanted new ideas so I gave them one. Gave them a few. I spoke honestly about how we're constantly fucking the same things up and scrimping on pence but pissing away pounds. Spoke about the stuff we do well and how that should be encouraged. All the kind of stuff we've been speaking about each evening this week. I did my best and I can't do any more. If it doesn't pay off then fuck it." He wrapped an arm around her, moving closer to her.

"I know you did your best. You always do," she said quietly, her hand still running gently through his hair. She liked his new haircut but wished he hadn't chopped quite so much off.

"Wish he hadn't cut it so short," he said quietly, echoing her thoughts. "That barber can't tell the difference between 'take it up just above my collar' and 'give me a number three blade', the dozy pillock. I'm never going back there."

"It still suits you," she murmured, fingers lightly combing little tracks down the back of his head. "Much fairer."

He gave a soft snort. "You can say it, you know."

"Say what?

"Grey. My hair's not blond any more."

Moving around until they were lying face to face, she kissed his temples where the grey was most noticeable. "Give over, Blondie. You're only grey here and that's hardly surprising given everything you've been through these past eight months. It's not that long since we closed the O'Brien case, love."

"The grey's not going to go away though, is it? Only going to see more of it from now on. I'm old and knackered."

"It'll give you an air of distinction. Befitting for a gentleman of rank, such as yourself," she smiled. "And you're not old, past it, or over the hill. You are, however, most definitely knackered."

He yawned. "You said it, Bolls." He moved his back to her shoulder and yawned again.

The warm breeze from the window stirred his suit and flapped the curtains. The traffic trundled by on the road below but not so much that it was too noisy.

He felt his eyelids growing heavy.

_I'll move in a moment... Voices. People singing on their way to watch a match or something... I think we can win the World Cup this year... Last match was a sickener. A draw with the Germans? Fuck that... We'll beat the Spaniards no problem on Monday... Beating the Frogs 3-1 made my fucking day... I like Alex's perfume... Love it. Love her, an' all... She loves me... Me?... Have to tell her, have to let her know... Want to marry her... Want kids... All too soon... Want the job.... What time do we've to go down to Luigi's? Won't tell them. Alex's night... That breeze is nice. Sunny day outside... Could stay like this forever... Should move... In a minute..._

She knew he was falling asleep and she didn't move a muscle apart from her hand which kept up the delicate, gentle strokes through his hair. His breathing grew slower and deeper. Alex was kicking herself for not leaving the phone off the hook. Murphy's Law dictated that it would ring just as he had finally fallen asleep. He had hardly slept in the past 48 hours, nerves and anxiety keeping him awake. For the past two nights, he had been reading when she went to sleep and he was still reading when she woke in the mornings. She knew she had only managed to nod off for brief periods and this relaxed sleep now was exactly what he needed.

In addition to not sleeping at night, he had been in full Guv mode all week. He was determined to finish off a number of niggling little cases they had before Alex left and he had been quite demanding of his team. Gene was never one to suffer fools gladly but when he was on a mission, people needed to step up to the mark, or he would steam-roll right over them. When he was like this he didn't want to have to ask for any missing details and everyone knew it.

The entire squad scurried about, anticipating what he would ask for, obtaining statements, finalising reports, typing up charge sheets – everything. Again, Alex got to see Gene's senior professional side, a quick flick through a file could tell him everything he needed to know in seconds. He knew if something was missing or incorrect in a heartbeat and this was something that could only be achieved from years of experience. It still took Alex a while to read though things until she was satisfied with it. Not so Gene. A quick glance and the file was either tossed into the "okay" pile or tossed back across someone's desk with an accompanying glare. Quite a few landed in front of Alex with a curt remark about missing "the bleeding obvious."

He was always right too, she usually had missed a photograph or a signature or something else equally as small but important enough for a tricky lawyer to note the error. Alex was excellent at making sure statements were coherent and correct; that all bits of the file were where they were supposed to be but sometimes she just didn't see the wood for the trees, as Gene put it. He made it look so easy even though it was anything but. It was exhausting work and twice she had found him dozing at his desk, a well-chewed biro hanging loosely in his right hand and his head leaning awkwardly against the wall.

Now that the interview was over, now that there was nothing else to do except wait, he allowed his mind to switch off. She waited until she was sure he was fast asleep and then carefully eased herself out from under his arm and replaced her shoulder with a proper pillow. Nipping out to the sitting room, she took the phone off the hook and returned, tucking the throw from the back of the couch around him gently. Then she half closed the window and dropped a feather light kiss on to his brow before leaving him alone. She left the door to the room ajar, one of his shoes keeping it open, so she could hear if he woke up.

* * *

It was almost half six before Gene woke. Cracking an eye open he was disorientated for a moment. He always was when he woke up in her bed. They were spending more and more time at his house, only occasionally staying at Alex's when they were both too tired from work or had a few too many downstairs. He wasn't drunk on those occasions either. A bit merry perhaps but she was having none of it and wouldn't even let him drive the Quattro around the corner into the garage. He didn't really mind. After all, having a bed upstairs on those evenings worked to their advantage. He smiled.

"Alex?" he called, reluctant to leave his comfortable position.

The bedroom door creaked open and he rolled over to look at her.

"Evening," she smiled. "Did you have a nice sleep?"

"Hmm, yes," he replied in sleepy satisfaction as she snuggled in beside him. "Where'd you go?"

"I just pottered about. Then I went down to the shops to get in some food. That sort of thing." She kissed him lightly. "My poor love. You were exhausted so I left you to get some sleep."

"Still feel like I could sleep for a week," he said through a yawn, curling himself into her side. "What time do we have to be downstairs?"

"Eight."

He nodded. "This is your night, Bolly."

"It's your night too. We-"

He interrupted her with a headshake. "No. Don't want to tell them. Not yet."

If he didn't want to then she wasn't going to push. Gene would deal with this in his own way. She ran her hand up and down his arm gently. "Okay. Whatever you prefer. Now, much as I'd like to stay here, I really should go and have a shower and-"

"Stay," he whispered. "Just until the phone call."

She settled back next to him and for a long while they said nothing, content to lie there in the warm evening sunshine. Gene kept his head pillowed on her shoulder.

Eventually Alex spoke. "You're in a very pensive mood this evening," she said softly into his hair.

"It's the day for it," he murmured. "Peaceful. Before the world comes crashing down around my ears."

"It won't be that bad." She hoped she sounded reassuring even though she was just as apprehensive as he was. It was strange, seeing Gene so quiet and vulnerable. Normally, he was all bounce and vigour, loud and confident. But now? Now he was different. Very different.

"Don't care if it'll be bad or good," he said quietly. "I can't stop things changing, no matter how hard I try. Shit moves on."

"_Life_ moves on, Gene," she said, trying to help him. "It changes by its very nature. Change is good. Sometimes, yes, it's difficult but you never know what can come of it. Look at us…" she trailed off with a small laugh. "I can hardly believe it myself sometimes. One minute I have this whole other life and then wham; I met you and then you're not anything like what I had imagined or expected."

He snorted. "And just what did you expect?"

"What Sam told me one time. Can't remember his exact words but they weren't exactly flattering. A nicotine addict who was a borderline alcoholic and who… what's wrong?"

Gene had flinched and pulled away from her abruptly. He rolled to the edge of the bed and got up.

"Gene?" Alex was confused; what the hell had happened? Sam's initial opinion of him was no secret, so why was he suddenly so cross?

His face was sober. "You had lots of lovely little chats with Sam, did you? A good old laugh at the Gene Genie, the bent, washed up dinosaur of a copper. I can just imagine the pair of you; thick as bloody thieves. Strange, he never spoke about you. I never heard your name once yet you know all about what Sam thought of me. Fuck that little prick. I thought he was a mate -"

"No!" she cried, scrambling to a sitting position. "No, it wasn't like that. Gene, please. Let me explain…" she held out her hand to him, beseeching eyes asking him to come back to her.

Until quite recently, he would have told her to shove it and stormed off in a huff but he didn't ever want to do that to her. To them. It was hard for him, holding back the habits of a lifetime, but he was genuinely trying. Trying to be a better man, trying to make this work, _wanting_ to make it work. So, biting the inside of his cheek, he sat back down, not close to her but not beating hasty retreat to the Quattro either. If she wanted to "explain" it had better be good.

Alex knew enough not to touch him just now. At least he was willing to hear what she had to say – even if he did feel hurt. "You know Sam loved you," she began gently. "You were his best friend. Once he got to know you he thought the world of you."

Gene stared at the floor. That gaping wound would never heal. She knew him too well - he wasn't angry that Alex and Sam had spoken - he was angry that Sam wasn't here. _Please don't, Bolly._

But she did, knowing she had to. "And I know that you want your friend here with you today. Life has changed, Gene. Sam's gone but if it wasn't for him, we would never have met. I would never have known about you. He had a tough time adjusting to you at the beginning and he was referred to me because I was researching traumas suffered by police officers. Sam had been in a accident before he met you and wasn't quite himself."

"I'll say," he muttered darkly.

"He was confused and his focus was a bit scattered at times. I helped him a little bit. At least, I'd like to think I did. He made tapes for me-"

"'Course he frigging did," he snorted with derisive affection. "Always running around with his stupid little tape machine, recording this and that. Drove me mad."

Alex smiled at his grumpy tone. "He loathed you at the beginning. But not for long - he eventually respected you and everything you became. The last tape he ever made for me was about the armed robbery on the train. When you were shot."

"When he nearly ran off but then changed his mind at the last minute," he grumped.

"Sam changed his mind _because_ you were hurt. Because he'd made a promise to Annie not to leave her alone. He wanted to live his life with Annie, with you, with the team and after that incident, Sam never spoke to me again. He'd never have told you about the tapes he made for me. Speaking to a psychologist? He'd sooner admit to you that he loved you."

Gene still kept his eyes focused on the floor. "The great, soft nancy." His voice was hoarse. Sam was dead. He would never get used to that.

She scooted a bit closer to him. "He did though. Love you. I could tell he did – you were his best friend and you were the big brother and father figure all rolled into one."

He glanced up. "Fuck off. _Father figure_? The hell I was!"

"You were," she smiled. "He looked up to you. You showed him that a big, brash, bent copper could turn a corner and become a better police officer and, more importantly, a better man. He wanted to be the type of police officer you became. A good, honest and loyal man who wasn't afraid to tackle anyone in his own unique way. Who still isn't."

He looked ashamed. "You know all about the backhanders and the hush money, then?"

She moved closer now and took his hand. "That's all in the past, Gene. It's not who you are and even back then, it was killing you. Look in here," she gently placed her other hand on his heart. "Look at who you are today. Remember Sam and how he helped you, how you helped each other. Don't be afraid of life's changes. I was terrified when we first met. Terrified that my life would never be normal or happy again. I was confused, lost and alone and then… then it changed. All because of you."

He smiled at her, his gaze turning warm. "You were a fruitcake when we first met. You still are but I love you anyway _and_ your fruitcake ways. Always will."

Alex returned his smile. "And I will always, _always_, love you, Shirley."

Gene laughed and leaned down to kiss her oh so gently.

"We're facing big changes but they'll be good ones," she continued when he pulled back. "We'll still work together on occasion and I'm still attached to Fenchurch East. I know you'd rather be DCI Hunt and do things the way you always did but Gene... if Sam was here today, don't you think that he'd want this promotion for you?"

"Think it? I know it. He was always after my job just like somebody else I know," he grinned and brought her hand to his lips, lightly brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "Whatever would I do without you, sweetheart?"

"Likewise," she whispered, her eyes shining at him. "I'm so proud of you, Gene. More than I can say."

"More than you can show?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist, a naughty twinkle in his eye.

"You have no idea what I can show," she replied, hugging him tightly. "And depending on what time we can escape from Luigi's this evening, I might be in a very, er, showy mood."

"Looks like it's my night after all."

The phone rang and his smile instantly vanished. He stood up and squared his shoulders. "This is it, Bolly."

She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and keeping her hand in his, he marched out to the other room and snatched the phone up. "Hello?"

**.oOo.**


	4. Broadway to Hyde Park

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Thanks to Lucida Bright as always for being an invaluable reader and to all of you who have reviewed this so far. This is a big chapter which should do you for a while. ;) For those who have been chomping at the bit to find out if Gene gets his promotion, this is for you. On with the show...

(More notes at the end - don't want to spoil the read.)

* * *

"Gene," it was Superintendent McKenna. "Glad you picked up. Well... I'm not sure if I'm putting you out of your misery or putting you into it, but congratulations. You more than impressed the board today and the decision was unanimous. The Commander and the DCS wanted me to call you with the news. Well done, Superintendent Hunt."

He took a deep breath winked at Alex and clenched her hand. She squeezed back, hard, and her face was full of happiness.

"Thank you, William." He coughed as his throat was dry. "So what happens now?"

"Well, I know you'll be busy all day on Monday organising DI Crane. Call up to my office at six and we'll go over the immediate necessities. For example, I now have the list of prospective DCIs for you and you should pick someone sooner rather than later. As you know, your promotion is from today but you'll officially take over as Superintendent in three weeks. It would make the transition easier for you if your replacement was already on site by then. How does that sound?"

"Fine. See you at six on Monday then."

"Good. Well done again, Gene. I knew it would all work out."

"Yeah. Glad it, er, did." Gene winced and cleared his throat. _Get it together man_. "Thanks for phoning."

"Not at all. Have a good evening and pass on my best wishes to Alex this evening."

"I will. Goodbye." He replaced the receiver with a click. With a soft sigh, he put both arms around her and she hugged him as hard as she could before following with a deep kiss.

"You did it, love. You did it. Oh, Gene..." Tears of happiness and pride appeared before she could stop them.

He gently brushed them away with his thumbs. "Don't start, Bolls. Otherwise you'll probably set me off too."

Alex's smile trembled as she nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

He cleared his throat again. "McKenna has a list of prospective DCIs. Wants me to come in on Monday evening to go through it."

"Have you any idea who's on it?"

"Only vaguely. I didn't really want to ask before I knew for certain if I'd be moving onwards and upwards."

"You already know who you want, don't you?" His non-committal answer was a dead give-away.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Can't get much by you, can I?"

"Tell me," she wheedled, anxious to know the identity of the new DCI.

"It was his name that struck me first. I heard about him through the Super. From Hartlepool originally, he's been in the Met for five years after transferring from Nottingham. DI Andrew Capplan. A good bloke by all accounts and I've done a bit of digging myself."

Alex paused, not getting it. "What's so unusual about his name?"

"Come on, Bolly," he teased, his eyes sparking. "Hartlepool? Andrew Capplan?"

She shook her head.

"You are so slow sometimes," he laughed and hugged her gently. "Andy Capp, Bolls. From the comic in The Mirror. Apparently, it's his nickname. Rather than fight it he just gave up and everyone calls him that."

"The poor man," she laughed, pictures of the cartoon character with his floppy hat filling her mind. "Whatever were his parents thinking? Dreadful choice of name."

"One of the best comics ever, though" he grinned. "The lads'll have a good laugh over Andy Capp, I wish his name had been Hägar."

Hägar the Horrible was Gene's favourite and he had various carefully clipped favourites pinned to his notice board. She giggled and placed her arms around his neck. "Why are we discussing bloody comics?"

"I have no idea," he replied and rocked her gently in his arms. A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes. "Who'd have imagined it? I'm a Superintendent in the Met. Christ, what wouldn't I give to see the look on that prick Litton's face. And Moreland? He's going to shit bricks. Ha!"

She reached up and kissed him again. "It's no more than you deserve, my Gene. Now," she slid her arms down his sides and smacked his bum. "We need to get changed and go down to meet the assembled horde."

He grinned. "This is going to be fun. We got you a present."

"Oh God, what?" From the mischievous look on his face her mind instantly conjured up images of blow-up dolls or some other equally embarrassing sex toy.

He simply gave her an enigmatic grin. "That's for me to know and you to find out, Bolly Knickers. Go on, you shower first and I'll shave."

"You need to boil-"

"The kettle. Yes, I know. I'll also have a word with Luigi about the shoddy plumbing in this flat. Bloody Italians. Even their hot water is in reverse."

"Don't you say a word to Luigi. He's the sweetest landlord I ever had," she said over her shoulder as she disappeared into the bedroom.

"He's a cheapskate!" he called after her. "He gets good money for this flat-"

She peered around the bedroom door with a look of extreme scepticism on her face. "Gene, there is no point in intimidating Luigi. You bet fifty quid that Italy wouldn't win the World Cup. So stop trying to make him forget all about it and pay up."

"They haven't won yet," he glowered, his pout appearing. "We will."

"Oh what_ever_!" she sighed and wrapped in a fluffy towel, she went into the bathroom. "Leave Luigi alone."

"I'll leave him alone when he pays me MY money because we'll win and those Nazi basta-"

"Stop that muttering out there," she called, mirth evident in her voice. "You great big baby."

Before she had even time to blink, Gene stood tall and broad in the doorway, a glint in his eye. "Pardonnez bloody moi, but did you just call me a _baby_?"

Alex paused and put her toothbrush down. "Don't..."

"Don't what, Bolly?" He took a tiny step forward.

She backed away from him, unable to keep the smile off her face despite the warning in her voice. "Gene, don't!"

He chuckled evilly and advanced into the small room. "Hello."

Even though he hadn't so much as touched her, Alex started to giggle. "Okay, mercy, begging, pleading or whatever it is you want, you've got it. Gene, DON'T!"

Her rambling words ended in a cry as he scooped her up. "You said something about a shower?"

"No! You rotter!" she shrieked as he tickled her and set the shower running.

He stuck a hand under the rather insipid spray. "Mmm, cold. Just right."

Sensing an opportunity to distract him, she clung to him even tighter. As one on his hands was testing the water she was able to wriggle free from the grasp of his other arm and wrap her legs around his waist. "You wouldn't do that to me," she whispered, kissing him softly.

He sighed against her neck and then kissed her in return, equally as gently, making her melt. His hands loosened her towel and moved across her back, his palms warm and soft against her skin. Alex was instantly lost, his smell, the comfort of his arms around her, his warmth...

She squealed as cold water flowed down her back.

* * *

Much to their own surprise, they managed to make it downstairs on time, despite the joint shower as Gene soaked himself just as much as he soaked Alex. Most of CID had already commandeered their usual place near the mural and Ray had kept seats for Gene and Alex. Once everyone had arrived, Luigi kept the whole lot happy with ready food and plenty of drink. Pasta, pizza, cheese, bread sticks, crisps, beer, wine, spirits... whatever they wanted. This was for the lovely Signorina Drake and nothing was spared.

Alex was subjected to good natured teasing about her new post in the Yard, and even though she had heard all of the wisecracks during the week, she still laughed with them and gave as good as she got.

"Broadway, Boss," grinned a slightly inebriated Chris, "Broad-way. Doing things your way, geddit?"

"Yeah, I get it, Chris. A broad, slang name for a woman. My way. Funny," she grinned.

Shaz sighed and Chris giggled, absolutely sozzled.

Even Gene rolled his eyes at the umpteenth repetition of the joke. Ray nudged him. "Go on, Guv."

Reluctantly Gene got to his feet and shouted for quiet, which descended immediately. "Right, before this party degenerates any further, I should say a few words. She lasted almost a year with us but Bolls is moving on. I don't think I'm understating things when I say it's been an eventful year. When one rather, eh, 'tired and emotional'," he broke off, wiggling his fingers, "I think that's how it's done, right, Bolls?"

Alex smiled, one eyebrow arched into her hairline. _I could kill you._

Gene grinned and continued. "Right, when one 'tired and emotional' DI Drake was carried into CID by yours truly, none of us could have imagined that you'd end up pretty much running the place. Hopefully, you'll be back, ordering us around like always, but in the meantime raise a glass for Fenchurch's Boss. Cheers, Bolly. Don't forget us and come back sooner rather than later."

He lifted his glass as did all the others and to a resounding, "Cheers, Boss!" they toasted her to claps and whoops of approval.

"Speech! Speech!" came the cries as Gene hauled a blushing Alex to her feet.

"Cheers, Guv," she smiled warmly at him. "I can certainly say this has been one of the most memorable years of my life. We had a rough start but, well, you're my team. All of you. And I'll miss you..." her voice trembled a bit. "Like I said, we're a team. I don't know what this new change will bring about but I do know that we'll be working together again because there isn't anyone else I would rather work with when the going gets tough."

"Hear, hear!" called Ray.

She smiled at him and Chris gave him a hearty clap on the back. "Don't anyone forget this; no matter what's ahead of us all, at this moment in time we're unbloodybreakable, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks guys. You're the best."

She blushed furiously again as the tables were thumped, whistles sounds and cheers rose. Surprising her (and himself) Gene put an arm around her. "Just one more thing before we allow you to return to the relative safety of your chair, Bolls. Raymondo, if you please?"

Ray scrambled through his jacket and, in relief, finally withdrew a large envelope and handed it to Gene. "For you, Bolly. To remember us all by. We hope you find it useful," he said as he gave it to her, squeezing her shoulders in a one armed hug. She kissed his cheek in thanks.

"You can do better than that, Boss," twinkled Ray at her, the dare evident.

Not batting so much as an eyelash, Alex smiled and cupping Gene's cheek she kissed him properly. A proper, full-on snog, right in front of everyone. "Thank you, Guv," she said against his lips after a moment.

There were more shouts and wolf whistles from the assembled crowd. Gene was certain he heard someone grumble "lucky bastard" but he let it slide. He knew he was a lucky bastard and that he had the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable plastered across his face. Those that knew, or suspected, that he and Alex were seeing each other (namely, Crane, Shaz, Chris and Ray) thought it was cute, even if the latter two would never admit it upon pain of death; those that didn't know were very much in the lucky bastard camp, thinking the Guv had fluked a snog from his DI.

She was laughing at the contents of the envelope and, batting Gene gently around the head with the card, she swiped playfully at all those she could reach. Of course, it had been his idea and she seemed to appreciate it. The lucky bastard.

* * *

Much later that evening, when a battle-worn Luigi had managed to usher everyone out, an exhausted Gene and Alex staggered up the stairs to her flat both too tired and emotional to do anything except crash into bed in a heap, clothes in a similar heap on the floor. It was around four in the morning before Alex woke, desperately needing the loo and equally desperate to wash her teeth. Yuck; had she been eating raw garlic? Gene's heavy snores told her he was out for count so she stumbled into the bathroom, frightening herself when she saw the horrific state she was in as she passed by the mirror. Make-up smudged and smeared, hair a mess, mascara everywhere except on her eyes and the less said about the red, puffy condition they were in the better. She couldn't go back to bed looking and feeling like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards so she thoroughly scrubbed at her teeth and then had a long, hot shower (for once). Not wanting to wake him, she dried herself and her hair and then crept back into the dark bedroom.

He hadn't moved an inch and was still snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. She readjusted the covers around him, lightly kissing his cheek, before slipping into bed beside him. Gene snuffled and scratched at his cheek where she had kissed him. He turned over, one arm settling around her as he moved in close against her back.

"Love you," he mumbled.

"I love you too, sweetheart," she whispered in reply, gently capturing his fingers in hers.

He rumbled something deep in his chest, the low tones sending vibrations through her. She loved it when he did that.

"What did you say?" she asked softly, just in case he really was asleep.

"Can I come with you for lessons?" he repeated, a bit more clearly this time.

Alex laughed quietly. "Yes, Gene."

"Ex'lent," he muttered, before letting sleep claim him once more.

She smiled. It could only have been Gene who thought of her present. Driving lessons.

For a tank.

* * *

Gene woke the next morning with a hangover; since he'd made the effort to cut back on the booze, his tolerance levels were less than satisfactory. Alex was fast asleep beside him, breathing so quietly and slowly, he could hardly hear her. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he rolled over and curled up against her. So soft and warm – he would never get tired of this.

Shame about his pounding head. He could really do with a long drink of ice-cold water. Maybe she'd wake in a moment and get it for him. But Alex slept on, lost in her dreamland; after five minutes, Gene gave up. With a quiet sigh, he slipped out of bed and padded towards the kitchen, grabbing his shirt up from the floor and pulling it on. Cold water. Aspirin. Immediately.

He ran the cold tap, and ran it, but, it wouldn't turn cold. Muttering to himself about the things he would do to Luigi, he filled a pint glass, dropped in some ice-cubes and put the whole lot back into the freezer for five minutes. Normally, he'd go over to the window and have a smoke but it was too bright. So he sat on the sofa, rested his head on the back, and waited.

With a jerk, his head snapped forward. He'd nodded off and the movement seemed to ram a pickaxe straight through his temple. He groaned, clutched at his head and then realised that his neck was killing him from the awkward angle he'd fallen asleep at.

"Oh… fucking hell…" he moaned and staggered back into the kitchen, clutching at both his head and neck, not knowing which pain was worse. He took the pint of water out of the freezer but now it was too cold and had begun to freeze itself. "Not my fucking day," he spat and broke up the sludgy ice in the glass with a knife and stirred it around until it was drinkable. Taking three aspirin (two for whichever pain needed it the most and one for the other) he drank his water slowly. Last thing he needed was an ice cream pain right now. He rolled his head, stretching out his neck and moving his shoulders. Fucking agony. Bastard Luigi and his shit flat. He filled himself another glass and not caring that it was tepid he drank it down in one go.

Never one to lie down under fire, Gene boiled the kettle, shaved, showered and dressed; by the time he was done, he was beginning to feel better and a bit hungry, so he started breakfast. It was almost 11 – he was supposed to go to the boxing club at four to watch a few young hopefuls spar for a place on the local team. Alfred Worthington was in charge of the club and had asked him to come along. He didn't like to let down a neighbour, if Alf could be called a neighbour. He lived on a narrowboat near to Gene's house and they'd meet in the pub most weekends for a pint and discussion about setting the world to rights. Boxing, horses and his new puppy, a border collie called Shergar, was all Alf lived for – Gene could see the appeal in that. He glanced towards the door; not a budge from Alex. Maybe the smell of some bacon and eggs would entice her out or…

"Bolly! Shift your arse!" he called, as he thudded the bedroom door open with a bang.

Alex screamed and sat bolt upright. Shot. She'd been shot. Blood everywhere. "_Whuh_?" she gasped, her heart racing. She was in bed. Her hands shook as she touched her forehead. Nothing.

"Bolls?" he asked, seeing she wasn't with it at all.

Alex blinked and sagged back against the headboard, breathing deeply.

"Fuck… Alex, love, I'm sorry," he said as he crossed over to her, seeing she had been frightened out of her wits. "Didn't realise you were so deeply asleep."

She touched her forehead again. It had been so real. But her fingertips had no blood on them.

"What is it?" he asked gently, taking her fingers and looking at them.

"I was shot," she whispered. "In the head. I heard the bang saw the gun fire and the bullet coming straight for me… shot dead."

He hugged her close. "Shush, Bolls. There's no gun and no bullet. Only a big, blundering idiot. Sorry, pet." He could feel her heart pounding as she clung to him and he felt awful for frightening her like that. He'd thought she was just dozing, preferring to stay under the duvet and sleep off the effects of the night before.

"Only a dream," she muttered, over and over. "It seemed so real."

"Bad dreams always do," he replied quietly, kissing the place on her forehead that she had been touching.

She hugged him tightly for a moment or two and then pulled back, running her hand across her brow again. "My head is sore..." she said, as if this was somehow associated with her dream.

Gene chuckled. "It's a hangover, Bolly. From drinking too much of Luigi's house rubbish. Join the club."

Alex's hangover began to kick in and she groaned against his shoulder. "Oh God..."

"See what I mean?"

"Why do we do this to ourselves?"

"It's fun. At the time. We all had a good night, huh?"

"We did," she said, lifting her head and squinting, now that she realised the room was too bright. "Though it's not what I had in mind to celebrate your promotion."

He shrugged. "We'll have a double celebration someday, _DCI_ Drake."

"No, we won't," she grinned at his unflinching confidence in her abilities. "We're going out tonight to celebrate, Superintendent Hunt. Just the two of us. It's a special occasion and you're not going to let it pass you by."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Where are we going then?"

"Drones."

"_Where_?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "It's a nice restaurant. The Drones Club in Mayfair."

"By 'nice' I expect you mean posh. No jeans, then?"

"Definitely not," she smiled. "Your new suit will be perfect."

He looked her in the eye. "Why do I get the feeling, Drake, that this evening is going to be for your benefit, just as much as mine?"

Alex kissed him. "Clever man. You get dressed up for me and I'll make it worth your while."

He couldn't keep the smile off his face. "How long ago did you book?"

Alex scrunched up her face in thought. "April? Something like that."

"Bloody hell, Bolly," he laughed loudly. "I thought you were going to say last week!"

"Nah. If you want to get in for dinner to Drones, there's at least a three month waiting list. I booked it as soon as you said the day of the interview. Thankfully, they let you know just in the nick of time and this was the closest reservation I could get."

He shook his head. How the other half lived. "And what time do we have present ourselves at this place?"

"Nine. Why? What's planned for today?"

"I told Alf I'd drop into the club for an hour or so at four this evening. I'll be out in plenty of time. You don't mind, do you?"

Alex knew all about Gene's involvement with the local boxing club. She encouraged it as it gave him something else to do that was completely unrelated to work. Even his occasional game of football was with work people so this was a break away that he needed. Nobody there cared that he was DCI – no, Superintendent Gene Hunt. He was just Gene, who actually knew a thing or two about boxing. She kissed him again before getting out of bed. "Of course I don't mind. We should head for your place soon enough. We'll pack up what we need from here after breakfast."

He caught her hand before she was out of his reach. "Bolls, I really am sorry for scaring you earlier. I-"

She placed a finger on his lips. "It was a bad dream. That's all. Love you," she finished and kissed him gently again. "Can you start breakfast?"

"Just about," he grinned. "Hope I don't electrocute myself with-"

"Gene, leave Luigi alone," she smiled as she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Gene, leave Luigi alone," he mimicked as he started the grill. "Bloody bastard. All sweet with Alex because he knows I'd attach this dodgy cooker fuse to his arse and light him up like a frigging Christmas tree."

"I _can_ hear you, you know."

Gene smiled to himself. He wouldn't touch a hair (or what was left of it) on Luigi's head. Secretly, he was quite fond of the little Italian but in one careless moment he'd made a bet on football, which, in his heart of hearts, he suspected that Luigi was going to win. Some things were worth grumbling about. Fifty ruddy quid. He must've have been out of his mind. He switched on the kettle and there was a bang as he had forgotten to plug out the grill first.

"Fuck this place!" he exploded as all the electrics went dead.

Alex materialised at his side, gave him an enigmatic smile, reached for the wooden floor brush and poked something on the main fuse board. There was a crackle, a click, and everything started up again.

He smiled. "No wonder you've got curly hair."

* * *

He had to admit she knew how to pick a restaurant. He had never been in such a swanky place - never even knew such a place existed - but he managed to get through the meal without embarrassing himself, or her, and to his surprise he found he enjoyed their evening. She looked beautiful too, wearing a long figure hugging dress of cream silk and her hair done up in a fancy twist knot thing. Gene pinched himself. What was a snot-nosed kid from the small red brick terraces of Manchester doing in a place like this with a woman like Alex? The pinch hurt and he was still in the restaurant. Not a dream then.

She hugged him arm close as they walked to a taxi rank afterwards and he put their joined hands in his coat pocket, the way he used to do all those months ago. Thankfully, there was a cab in the rank when they arrived so they were home in no time. Alex kept her promise and certainly made it "worth his while" once she got him up the stairs. He could still hardly believe his luck as a gorgeous woman made love to him and whispered her love for him in his ear.

He rolled her over onto her back so he could look deep into her eyes, their bodies still glowing and tingling. "Alex?"

"Yes?" she replied, kissing him.

"Stay here with me this week. Please... I'd like it. Don't want you at the other end of a phone line. Want you here. Have you got enough clothes and whatsits here to last you?"

"I think I'll manage," she replied, smiling up at him.

"So you'll stay then?"

"I would love to, yes, for the week."

"Maybe longer?"

She kissed him gently. "Let's see if I don't outstay my welcome with my girly clutter."

He laughed into her neck, "I quite like your girly clutter. Speaking of... we really should take your bra and knickers down off the light. They've been there a while."

Alex giggled, both knowing full well he had stopped her every time she reached for them. "If you want me here for a week I may have need of them."

"We'll see," was his reply, before gathering her into his arms. "Night, Alex, love. Thanks for a memorable evening. I loved every minute of it."

"Thank you too, darling," she said, kissing him fondly. "Congratulations, love. I'm so, _so_, happy for you. You're going to be great. I know it."

He squeezed her tight. "So are you. Just don't be so bloody great that they don't want to let you go."

* * *

The following morning, both of them were nervous. Alex because of her secondment and Gene because he was going to have to talk to Ray and Chris. He didn't want them to hear from anyone else and even though it was unlikely any of the top brass would let it slip, he knew the way the gossip network worked in the Force. Ripples in a pond. By the end of the week, the lowest rung of the ladder in the GMP would have heard, never mind the Met. Plus, he was also unsure of how DCI Mooreland was going to react. He had his nose rubbed in it and a wanker of such colossal magnitude wasn't going to let that go. Ever. He didn't care about himself - Mooreland couldn't do anything to him as he now outranked him but he could easily go after Alex, Ray, Chris and especially David Crane. Gene wouldn't put it past the vindictive little prick to stir up trouble.

"Who's for the chop today then?" she asked sliding her arms around his waist. His dark look spoke volumes.

"Wouldn't worry about it, Bolls. Just got to keep my wing mirrors clear for a bit." He turned around to face her. "Blimey! What happened to you?"

"It's called a suit, Gene."

He grinned. "No off-the-shoulder tops for the boys in the Yard then?"

"First impressions and all that," she replied loftily. "Very important."

"Sure are. You made a hell of a first impression on me."

"Don't even go there, Hunt," she shot back, eyes glinting with humour.

"Too late. I'm 'there' already," he smiled, a dreamy look on his face. "Fanbloodytastic. Legs all the way up and a skirt that just about covered your-"

She kissed him. "You hold onto that image and if you're very nice, I'll see what I can do about bringing it to life again."

"You can bring something else to life an' all," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"What ever am I going to do with you?" she laughed and pulling a hand from behind her back she handed him a small, neatly wrapped parcel. "Got you a little prezzie."

His face lit up. "You did?"

"Yup. Open it."

He sat down on the bed with an eager bounce and ran a finger under the sellotape.

"Gene, open it properly," she grinned, knowing he was dying to.

Bits of wrapping paper flew into the air and he discovered a small, narrow leather case. Opening it, he withdrew a beautiful cartridge pen that had "The Guv" inscribed on the silver barrel.

"Knew you'd never use it if I had mushy stuff written on it," she said with small smile, hoping he knew what that simple inscription meant. He would always be the Guv, even if he wasn't DCI Hunt any more.

He looked up at her, stunned into silence for a moment. "Alex... thank you, love. I..." He got up and kissed her before tucking the pen securely into his inside jacket pocket. "I'd have used it no matter what you had written on it but this... I love it. Thank you." He kissed her again and put something into her hand. "Got you this. These, I mean."

Two new keys glinted up at her. "Gene, is this what I think it is?" she asked, gobsmacked.

He shrugged. "One for the house and one," he swallowed, "for the Quattro. Just don't take it to the supermarket because it's a trolley magnet. If there's an old bag within fifty feet, I guarantee you she'll make straight for it and let the trolley smash into the door. Otherwise, use it whenever you need to. Same with the house."

She hugged him as hard as she could and he reciprocated with a bear hug of his own. Eventually, they let each other go, after another brief kiss. "Okay, Bolls. If we hang around here any longer, we both going to be shamefully late. See you this evening?"

She nodded, eyes shining brightly with happiness. "No later than six, I should think."

"I've got to meet McKenna at six but I'll make it snappy," he said, holding the front door open for her.

Alex made her way to the Underground while Gene sped off in the Quattro. He bipped the horn at her as he passed her in the street and she waved to him, thus beginning a morning ritual. She had never looked forward to life as much as she did on those days. Waking in the morning with him beside her, having breakfast together, kissing each other goodbye and then meeting up again in the evenings. They missed each other during the day, having become used to their routine in work, but they were adjusting.

This was going to work out and they both knew it. It was hard to say which one of them was happiest about that.

Gene was glad she was there when he arrived home on Monday. Telling Chris and Ray that he would be leaving CID was hard. He called them both into the office and he could practically feel Chris quaking in fear.

"Sit down, you twonk," he said with a smile and Chris instantly relaxed.

Ray spoke up. "You got it then, Guv?"

Chris's eyes flicked between Ray and Gene. What was going on?

"Yes, Raymondo."

Ray nodded, a sad little smile on his face.

"I've been promoted, Chris," explained Gene. "Out of harm's way."

"Wow! Well done, Guv. We'll be the first CID with a Super in charge," beamed Chris, not getting it.

Ray rolled his eyes. "The Guv won't be stayin', you fairy."

The delight instantly left Chris's face. "But... but... but..."

"Yes. Quite, Christopher," said Gene. "Of course I won't be staying. You'll get a new DCI and I'll move upstairs."

Chris looked like someone had just told him Santa Claus wasn't real. "You're leavin' us, Guv?"

"Didn't really have much choice in the matter, Chris. I've said no too many times and it was a case of move up or move out. Plus, let's just say that you really wouldn't have liked the Super that was in the pipeline."

"Mooreland," said Chris, surprising both of the other two.

"How the hell did you know that?" cried Ray.

"He told me ages ago. I thought 'e was the Super already until DI Crane said 'e weren't."

"Counted his chickens, didn't he?" said Gene, making a mental note of the fact that Mooreland had already bragged to Chris. "Anyway lads. With Bolly gone and me moving out in a three weeks, there's going to be a lot of changes around here. But let's be clear on one thing. This is still my station. I may not be in this office but I'll be around and you know how I want things done. I want you both to step up to the mark. Ray, eyes and ears sharp for information on these armed blags. Chris, same goes for you and stay on that registration plate lead we got out of Tricky Dick. You're my team and no poxy promotion is going to change that."

"Yes, Guv," they both replied and got up to leave.

"Ray, keep your seat," said Gene and was surprised when Chris stuck out a hand. He took it.

"Really Guv. Well done," he said, trying to look somewhat happy.

Gene clapped him on the shoulder. "You're a good lad, Chris." He let Chris leave and closed the door behind him, taking the free chair beside Ray and reaching for the whisky. He poured generous measures out for both of them and they clinked glasses.

"It won't be the same without you, Guv," said Ray, staring at the amber liquid in his glass.

"No. I don't reckon it will be, Raymondo. What with Bolly leaving us, well... the timing couldn't have been worse."

"Will she be back, Guv?"

Gene shrugged. "She seems to think so but I wouldn't put money on it. If she manages to do what they want her to do, she'll be regarded as an asset to them and they won't let her go all that easy, despite their promises to the contrary."

"Who's going to be our DCI?"

"Keep it to yourself, Ray but you know DI Capplan?"

Ray paused. "That chap in Harrow?"

"The very same. He's on the list and I think he'd be a good choice."

"Andy Capp," said Ray, realisation dawning on him. "He's a good laugh. Tough, though. We played football against his crowd last year. Dirty bastards."

"That's him," said Gene, please that Andy Capp wasn't above the kicking and gouging method of football. Sounded like a man after his own heart. "Of course, it all has to be approved by those on high, so as I said-"

"Not a word from me, Guv."

"Good man." Gene finished his drink and Ray did the same. He too shook Gene's hand.

"I'm sorry you won't be here every day, Guv. But I am well pleased that you're going to be the one holding the reins. Well pleased for you, an' all."

"Thanks, Ray. And I won't be the desk-bound Superintendent that we're all used to either."

"Couldn't imagine it. Cheers, Guv," said Ray and with a final clap on the shoulder, he left the office.

That evening, Gene told Alex how difficult that conversation had been, even if he hadn't shown it. Leaving Chris and Ray to someone else's direction just didn't sit right with him. His DS and DC had been there since early 1973, he knew how they worked and what they thought even before they thought it. They were loyal to him, almost to a fault and had followed his transfer request to London with their own without giving it a second's thought. Now, they were in the same city, the same station but not on the same team. He was going to miss that.

By the end of the week, everyone knew Gene had been promoted, just like he had suspected. He was proud of his team; they all rallied round and started planning for the changes that were coming. They were good lads, all of them. Even if they did drive him to distraction at times.

Alex, however, was not fairing as well as she had hoped in the Yard. The files were a mess and she had been lumbered with the world's slowest clerk imaginable. Yes, WPC Rona Blakely knew every file backwards but that was because she spent ages reading every single one, cover to cover, over and over. And over. Plus, she liked nothing better that a good headshake and little "tsk" when she came across a mistake. Also, Rona moaned about the heating in the room, the number of steps up to the sixth floor, the dirty windows, the lights, the squeaky floor; the list went on and on. It was getting on Alex's nerves, big time. Gene re-christened Rona to Mona and Alex was certain that he'd forget and call her Mona to her face but he hadn't done it so far.

Every time he came to see Alex, usually to pick her up in the evenings, he was sweetness personified to Rona. No matter how many dirty looks Alex gave him, Gene remained deliberately blind to them, and charmed moany Rona until it was almost embarrassing. However, it was the only way he had of indirectly helping Alex. He suspected that Rona had a problem working for "some, flighty, snip of a woman" and he knew that if he was nice to her, then maybe she'd be nice to Alex. Gene had eyes and ears everywhere and even though Alex laughed off his assurance that Rona didn't like working for a woman, he got his information from a reliable source. One of the canteen women in the Yard who used to work in Fenchurch.

So Rona became Alex's cross to bear and she tried to work with the woman but it wasn't easy. She didn't want to constantly talk about her at home either. Not with so much going on and with her relationship with Gene going so well. They were happy, very much in love with each other and if Rona was the only cloud on her horizon, then it was nothing. In the evenings, Alex had a happy home to go to and that was all she wanted.

* * *

"What are your plans for today, Bolls?" asked Gene, about two weeks after her first day at the Yard.

_Drown my sorrows in a bottle of Luigi's worst._ "Nothing special. Why?"

"I think you know," he said, grinning at her as his eyebrows waggled.

"One year?"

"One year."

"I take it from the way you're sitting there, smiling manically, that you've got something in mind?"

He harrumphed. "I do not smile manically. But, I do believe, that I cannot let this momentous occasion pass without some sort of commemorative event for the twentieth of July. My un-Independence Day, as I like to think of it. Anyway, it's not every day of the week a posh, mouthy tart drops into my life, is it?"

"I should hope not." She bent down and kissed him briefly as she reached across him for the cornflakes. "So, what have you planned, then?"

Gene had given this a bit of thought and he wasn't entirely sure he was doing the right thing but he hoped it would help her a bit and today seemed like as good a day as any. "Well… you've been a bit… off these past few days and I was thinking that we could take a half day meet up for an early lunch and spend the day in the park."

"What park?" Alex's face had fallen a bit.

"Hyde."

"Gene -"

"I know. I know. For some mad reason of your own, you've taken a dislike to Hyde Park and Regent's Park, but Bolls, come on. They're trees and grass! We used to like Hyde Park a lot. Especially down by the fountains in the Italian Gardens, remember?" His eyes sparkled at her.

She did remember, only too well. It was where they shared their first proper kiss, where she first realised the power of his undeniable attraction. She loved that spot and they had revisited it on a number of occasions but each time, Alex had felt less and less safe. She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong but her fears, irrational though they might be, had grown. Now, she couldn't even walk past the parks without a shiver. Gene had tried everything to reassure her but it was to no avail. Alex simply refused to go into either park for reasons she couldn't explain. She blinked; Gene was staring at her quizzically, waiting for an answer.

"Of course I remember," she replied, giving him a warm smile. "But you know how I feel about -"

"What you feel is bollocks and you have got to snap out of it," he said bluntly, his patience with her park-phobia just about gone.

Every single time they went out for a walk lately, she would tug his hand and lead him away from the parks. About a week ago, he had gone with Alf and Shergar to Hyde Park and chucked a few sticks around for the dog to fetch. Alex had refused to speak to him for an entire evening after that and he hated getting the silent treatment just for going out to a bloody park. He was out, getting some exercise, and she had a problem with it. That seriously pissed him off but he said nothing at the time. Then she had tried to get him to promise he wouldn't go again and he had grunted a half-hearted answer, hoping to end the argument before it began. Today he had planned to take her there himself, sit down, have a picnic followed by a leisurely walk and now she was pouring cold water all over his plan without even giving him a fair hearing. He had done everything; been patient, understanding, not picked a fight, let it go, said nothing and now he had enough. More than enough. She was the psychologist and yet, here she was, afraid to go near a bloody park AND constantly banging on about it. Utter _bollocks_.

Alex took a step back, surprised at is angry tone. "It's not boll-"

"It bloody well is. Fuck's sake, Bolly. It's ridiculous."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not discussing the parks with you again."

"Come and meet me for lunch."

"No."

"Alex, this is bullsh-"

"I am _not_ going into that park, Gene. We can meet anywhere else but not there."

"I planned the whole thing already," he said, rather sulkily. "You've ruined it now."

"Don't be such a child! We could go -"

"I'm not the one acting like a bloody child here," he snapped at her. "Afraid of frigging parks? Mental-"

"STOP!" She slammed her hand down on the kitchen counter. "Stop calling me mental!" His word had touched a raw nerve. She knew she was behaving oddly and she couldn't explain it. Mental… she wasn't, was she?

"Then stop behaving mental!" he shouted back. "Fuck's sake, I can't work you out at times."

"I don't need working out. And anyway, I didn't want to celebrate today. If you'd just asked me -"

"I knew, I fucking _knew_, you take this the wrong way and that we'd end up having a row." He shoved his chair back and stood up. "Alex, I'm going to be there to watch them leaving for the Changing of the Guard at 11am. Make a choice – get over this bloody nonsense and be there too or stop harping on about it to me. It is _seriously_ pissing me off. If you're not there, then don't fucking expect to come back here later and go on about it. Grow the fuck up!" He flung open the kitchen door and she leapt to her feet.

"We are _not_ finished yet-"

"Oh, yes we fucking are. FUCK this. _I've had enough_!"

"That's GREAT, Gene! Walk out!" she shouted after him, eyes swimming. "Don't hold your bloody breath wait-"

The front door slammed and cut her off. There was a roar from the Quattro and then silence.

* * *

Alex was stunned; he had left her. Today... when she needed him the most...

Today wasn't just the anniversary of the day she arrived – it was also Molly's thirteenth birthday and the anniversary of the last day she saw her daughter. They had to have their first really serious argument on today of all days. She couldn't have felt more miserable and she trudged up to the bedroom to finish getting dressed. Gene's shirt from yesterday was hanging from the wardrobe door and she picked it up, about to toss it into the laundry for washing but she lifted the collar to her nose and breathed in. A pang of unhappy loneliness swept through her; lonely for Molly and lonely for Gene.

She sat on the bed, keeping his shirt pressed against her face and not one for crying over an argument, she surprised herself when the hot tears came thick and fast. She tried to muffle her sobs until she realised that there was no one to hear her anyway. He was gone and she was all alone. She clung to his shirt, willing him to come back and she cried as if her heart would break. "Gene, please come home," she wailed, over and over, her longing for him intensified by her sense of loss about Molly.

But Gene didn't come back and eventually, she had cried herself out. Not only that, but now she was late for work. Life goes on. Sniffling, she wiped her tears away and rapidly finished dressing, trying to make the best of her appearance but knowing that her eyes were red and swollen. She swiftly tidied the room, put the tear sodden shirt into the washing machine with other white clothes, switched it on and left the house. She didn't even know if he wanted her to come back but wasn't going to stay away. He had been angry and she was sure they could sort it out. She'd stop on the way home and buy him some of those little strawberry jam tarts from the bakery that he liked so much. They could work through this - it wasn't as if they hadn't argued before.

But she still ached for him and their shouting match tore at her heart. He hadn't walked out before. Slammed out.

She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the floor of her crowded Tube carriage. It was packed with commuters and a gaggle of schoolgirls, who were chatting happily amongst themselves, all of them about Molly's age. They brushed by her at one point, all in heap to get out through the doors. One girl dropped a hockey stick and Alex bent and picked it up, handing it to her.

"Cheers, thanks," the girl beamed at her and scampered after her friends.

Alex barely managed a smile in return, the ache of sadness in her throat causing real pain. She was so lonely and wanted nothing more than to get out and catch another Tube going the other direction, towards home, where she could curl up in their - his - bed. She swallowed back her sadness again and lost herself in the busy rush hour crowds.

But, even in the quietness of her office, she couldn't concentrate. They should not have parted in such blazing anger and she regretted turning him down so bluntly when he had only tried to help her. Tried to do something nice to calm her fears. After all, Gene didn't know about Molly, at least, she had never explicitly told him about today. So, it was hardly his fault that he thought the day should be a happy event. Why, _why_, hadn't she talked to him about this?

Alex, who prided herself on her maturity and level-headedness, found that this time, it was her two big feet that messed things up. Gene had been her rock and yes, even though he had the occasional Manc Lion outburst, he had been the stable influence she needed.

She was learning how to handle his obtuse stubbornness and he was learning how to deflect her focus when she simply would not let something go. Both of them were as obstinate as mules but they quickly realised that if their relationship was going to survive, they would have to take a step back personally when they clashed professionally. They tried hard not to bring work home but it was difficult. On the few occasions when an argument at work threatened to spill over at home, they simply had to agree to let it go.

They would go to Luigi's with the team, have a few drinks and see if that cleared the air. If it didn't, then a night apart sorted them out. It gave them the space they needed, time to think about what was really important, and thus far, had resulted in one of them turning up on the other's doorstep at all hours of the pre-dawn morning. A soft kiss and everything would be right again - no need for apologies or discussions. They were learning; work was work and what they had was worth leaving the minor irritations at the station door. Their relationship was worth fighting for and fighting with each other was utterly pointless.

From the very beginning they had understood that neither of them was a mind reader. So far, apart from the tiff over the new suit, they had managed quite well but this was something she should have shared with him and she couldn't figure out why she hadn't. She felt tears welling up again and decided that there was only one thing to do. Go to him. Now.

* * *

As soon as Gene slammed the front door behind him, he knew he had done the wrong thing but his pride wouldn't let him go back inside. Apart from the stupid park thing, something else had been bothering Alex for the past few days and he had tried to get her to talk but his enquires drew a blank each time. He thought that today, if she could just relax with him in a place they both had fond memories of, that she might tell him about whatever was on her mind. He knew she had developed this irrational fear but facing the fear, with him right beside her on this gloriously sunny day, could only help her. He thought it was a rather good plan and he was hurt when she shot it down without so much a second thought. Angrily, he gunned the Quattro's engine and roared down the road, half of him wanting to go back to her and the other half resolutely in a huff, topped up by his perceived righteous indignation.

As a result, he sat in his office and brooded all morning. Everyone had the sense to stay out of his way and Ray cast a forlorn look in Crane's direction. If Drake had been here, as opposed to _him_, (Ray shot a look at Crane - Jesus fucking Christ - all the pencils were being pared to perfection) then the Guv wouldn't be in such narky form. But as she wasn't here… well… net result? An unhappy Guv meant an unhappy CID.

Gene sighed loudly and turned his pen around his fingers, the memories of the day she gave it to him flooding back. He couldn't stop thinking about the way he had left her. He'd never walked away from her before. Okay, they hadn't had an argument like this before but walking out? And telling her not to come back home? Because that what his house was now. Home. For both of them. He was _kicking_ himself. Hadn't he stopped running away from situations like this? They had sorted out any issues they had so far. They always kissed each other goodbye in the mornings. He should not have slammed out of the house like that after flinging an ultimatum at her feet. He should've followed his heart and gone back home again, made her smile, kissed her in apologies and stayed with her. There was only one thing to do. Go to her. Now.

* * *

As Gene drove towards Trafalgar Square, heading via Whitehall to Scotland Yard, he glanced at his watch. 10:35. He hoped she was still at her desk. Considering what had happened this morning he thought it would be unlikely but she was a lot closer to Hyde Park than he was. If she was going to meet him to watch the horses as they passed by, then she could very well have left already. Shit! Why didn't he leave sooner?

He sped towards Broadway and eventually, swung the car into the dedicated garage after giving the PC on the gate a bollocking for holding him up. Gene called the lift down to the car park, furiously pressing the down button repeatedly. "Come on, come on, _come on_!" Eventually, it creaked into place and made its slow way up through the building. His shoulder crashed into the sliding doors in his hurry to exit on to the sixth floor. Rushing down the corridor, he bounced into her office.

"She's not here, Sir," said Rona, the general head-wrecker, looking up from her typewriter.

"When did she leave? Did she say where she was going?"

"She left about half an hour ago and no, she didn't tell me where she was going."

"Right. Okay, Mona -" Gene cringed. _Shit_.

"Rona, Sir," she corrected him, oblivious to his faux pas.

"Rona, when she comes back, will you ask her to call me and tell her she's to stay put if she doesn't reach me. Got that?"

"Yes, Sir."

Gene glanced around the office again, silently willing Alex to appear. "Fuck it!" he swore under his breath and hurried back towards the lifts again.

He decided it would be quickest to go by taxi as it would be too slow to get the Quattro out of the garage. He ran to Victoria Street and flagged down a cab. Traffic crawled round Victoria, and Gene knew they would miss each other. She would leave because she thought he wasn't going to show up. It was close to eleven o'clock already and she would be at their meeting point on Rotten Row. He wasn't too worried; he'd find her. After all, despite what he said this morning, he intended to spend the night putting their argument behind them. At home.

Just as he got out of the taxi by Apsley House, at the entrance to the Park, he heard the explosion rip through the busy lunchtime atmosphere.

It could only be a bomb.

**.oOo.**

* * *

So... if you've made it this far, well done. Hope you enjoyed it. Before you ask, I have checked, rechecked and triple checked on some facts.

First off, when did Alex arrive in the _Ashes to Ashes_ universe? We have two conflicting dates. 17th July, 1981 (the date that briefly appears on Gene's computer in the first episode) or 20th July, 1981 (the date Alex writes on her wall calendar). Since we see the 20th July most often and very clearly, I'm going with that. Secondly, is 20th July Molly's birthday? Yes. There is a very brief shot of Alex's calendar in episode four at 39:55. She has drawn candles on a cake and written "Molly's birthday" on a bit of paper, stuck directly over 20th July. For all those reasons, I'm going with the assumption that 20th July 1981 is the day Alex arrived in Gene's world. It's also Molly's birthday and the last day she saw her daughter. Last but not least, 20th July 1982 was the day of the Hyde Park and Regent's Park bombings in London.

* * *


	5. Rotten Row

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: A special thanks to Lucida Bright, who has been patient enough to beta this not once but twice and who has sorted out my _atrocious_ London geography. Thanks also to all those of you who read and review. Your comments are much appreciated.

* * *

.oOo.

Alex had been delayed on the tube for what seemed like an eternity with no announcement as to what had caused the hold up. It had been an infuriating wait for her; she had left early to try and reach Gene in Fenchurch but that time was whittled away as she was caught on the tube, in a dark tunnel, somewhere between Monument and Tower Hill. When she eventually emerged from Tower Hill underground station, she knew something serious had happened. Sirens filled the air as police cars and ambulances raced by her. People were spilling out of offices and into cafes and bars as radios were turned up. She saw a white faced man leaving a pub and hurrying to a phone box.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, catching his arm.

"A bomb," he replied tersely. "In Hyde Park. It's bad. It's… bad…" He left a stunned Alex in the middle of the road and hurried across to the phone box.

She didn't know what think, or feel, or do. Nothing. Nothing could function. Her whole being was filled with a stunned horror and she couldn't move a muscle.

"Outta the way, luv!" cried a gruff voice as an older man hauled her off the road, just in time. A speeding police car whizzed by. Horn and sirens blaring. "You all right, darlin'?" he asked her, catching sight of her ashen face.

She nodded dumbly and stumbled away from him towards Fenchurch. Gene. Gene. Gene. Gene. GENE. Her heart seemed to pound his name as she forced her feet to move. He had to be there. He simply _had_ to be there, safe in his office. Oh please, God. Please. PLEASE.

She didn't remember how she got to the station. Nothing of that frantic run registered with her. It was just one foot in front of another until she fell through the doors of CID. It was empty, apart from the lone figure of Shaz.

"Boss!" she cried, jumping to her feet. "A bomb went off in -"

"I know. Where is he?" Alex managed to croak out, the open door to Gene's office telling her all she needed to know. He wasn't there.

"I don't know, Boss," replied Shaz, seeing that something was terribly wrong. "He left here well over an hour ago but -"

For the second time that day, a gut-wrenching sob burst from Alex and she staggered to her old desk.

"_Boss_ - Alex!" cried Shaz, hurrying towards her in concern. "What's the matter?"

Alex couldn't answer as she wailed, clutching her head with trembling hands. She was too late.

"Alex, let me -"

But her distraught boss shook Shaz's kind hand off her and bashed out through the office doors again. She had to get to Hyde Park. Had to. Had to see him. Maybe he was fine. Hyde Park was a big place. A very big place. Huge. He was okay. She swiped the tears away from her eyes and made her way to Viv's custody desk where, without giving him a chance to ask any questions, she demanded a car. As Viv hunted for a set of keys she listened to the burbling police radio. Rotten Row... the horses… the soldiers… people hurt… dead…two dead... three... maybe four.

It was Shaz who caught her. "Boss, _please_. Please, sit down. I'll get you a drink of wat-"

"Let me go!" cried Alex, scrabbling to get away and snatching the keys from Viv's hand. "I have to go. Oh, let me GO!"

She broke free from both of them and ran.

* * *

Gene knew it was a bomb and that it was close. He heard the screams and raced in the direction he thought they were coming from. Suddenly, a police car flew by him and skidded into the entrance of Hyde Park. Followed by another. And another. Gene almost threw up on the spot. There could only be one reason those cars were headed in there. The bomb had been in the park.

By the time he reached Rotten Row, they had closed it off and he wasn't allowed go any further.

"I am a Superintendent in the police, Sonny," he roared at the young cavalry officer who was helping to evacuate people from the area and pushing Gene back from the entrance. Now was the time to use the rank. "And you WILL let me -"

"Sir, BACK OFF! We're clearing the area to search for other devices. NOBODY is going in there. MOVE. BACK."

There was nothing for it. He had to find a command post and wait there, hoping that he could catch some radio chatter about the injured… and the dead. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, as if it was intent of ripping his soul in two. It simply could not have ended this way. Not his Alex. How had she known about Hyde Park? Had she read something? Felt something? Why had he not listened? How could he make it up to her? If he could… No. No. Not his Alex.

* * *

He couldn't leave the area he had been barricaded into, so he anxiously prowled at the perimeter of the cordon to spot a fellow Met officer or someone official looking. No point in dealing with the plebs. He needed access and he needed the right sort of people around him. Even though he was almost frantic with worry, he stayed where he was and searched the thronging police carefully. To his complete amazement, DI Crane walked straight by him, radio clutched in hand.

"Crane! _CRANE_, you dozy git!" he bellowed and the DI turned around.

"Guv!" he cried. "Where did you come from? How did you get here so fast? We've been wondering were you -"

Gene stepped under the cordon tape and snatched the radio from Crane. "DS Carling? Over," he barked into it.

"That you, Guv? Over."

"Of course it's me. Where are you? Over."

"We were called here about half an hour ago and were told to report to Command Post Alpha, on Park Lane. Over."

"What's the situation in the park? Over."

"Don't know, Guv. There's a briefing in ten minutes. Do you know where DI Crane is? Over."

"He's with me. Meet you at Post Alpha. Wait for me there. Over."

"Roger, Guv. Out."

Gene shoved the radio back at Crane. "Where's this Alpha place, then?"

"Just up towards Westminster Gates, Guv," replied Crane leading the way. "Are you okay? You look -"

"Less talking, more walking," snapped Gene at him, marching away, desperate to find Alex and hoping he could keep his panic under control.

* * *

Some four hours later, Gene was close to screaming. Another bomb had detonated in Regents Park, the other place Alex refused to go into. How had she _known_? The question tormented him, particularly because he told her that what she felt was bollocks. He had shouted at her and made her cry. He knew it; he had seen the tears brimming in her eyes before he turned away from her. How could he have done that? His gentle Alex. His whole world…

As far as he had been able too, he had ascertained that none of the bodies in Hyde Park matched Alex's description. At least, none of the identifiable ones matched. They had conflicting reports about how many soldiers had been killed; some reports said no civilians had died and others said three. There were the injured too, the vicious nail bomb having ripped right through them. He was in a hellish nightmare of a situation. He was right at the centre of operations but he couldn't find out if his own partner (it sounded so clinical) had been hurt. What if she needed him? What if she wanted him right at that very moment and here he was, fucking about in a police control centre? It was killing him. Chris passed by with another list of descriptions of the dead and Gene snatched it from him, scanning it desperately.

Crane knew something was up with Gene. He was mystified as to how the Guv showed up, right at the entrance to the park, exactly when he was needed. What was he doing there? And why was he taking the head off anyone who so much as looked at him funny? It was Ray who unwittingly gave him a clue. He had four teas and was distributing them between Chris, the Guv, one for himself and waved Crane over for his.

"Here ya go, Guv," said Ray, handing him a steaming cuppa. "Looks like you could do with it, an' all. The Boss'd hardly recognise yer."

Gene said nothing but at the mention of Alex, he took the cup, sank on to a chair and stared at his boots. Crane wasn't imagining it. Just before Gene had looked down, he had caught David's eye for the briefest of moments.

There were tears in the Guv's eyes.

David was sure that something serious had happened and it was something to do with Alex. He sincerely hoped they hadn't broken up. He had no idea how Gene felt but he knew from talking to Alex that she adored him. She was very private about her personal life but they had become friends over the past few months. David couldn't say that they regularly met up after work or that Alex was particularly close but they were more than just colleagues. His children loved her and Sarah had found a kindred spirit for trips to the British Museum. She very rarely spoke about her relationship with Gene but he knew how happy she had been recently. How her eyes lit up whenever she did speak about him. It was inconceivable that they had fallen out to such a degree that even the Guv was practically in tears over it. Whatever could have happened?

Seeing that Gene was genuinely distressed, Crane changed the subject to football and nobody else noticed that the Guv said nothing. After a mere five minutes he disappeared back to the tent where the casualty lists were being compiled, head down, shoulders slumped and ten years older.

* * *

Meanwhile, an exhausted and battered looking Alex was working with Special Branch in Post Bravo at Edinburgh Gate. Her commandeered car from Fenchurch had done its job and got her here in record time. Thanks to driving like a maniac where necessary. Gene would be proud... _will_ be proud when she told him later. She bit her lips and pushed a hand through her hair, winding it into a knot and shoving a pencil through it to keep it out of her face.

The outer cordon had been established by the time she had arrived and DCI Mooreland had spotted her hovering near the cordon tape. In a fit of spite, he had sent her to Post Bravo even though he knew that the Fenchurch people were working in Alpha. He was damned if he was going to help them out and let one of the Met's best and brightest work for anyone else but him, especially today. Alex had refused to work for him once before and now, she was so desperate to be involved, she didn't even protest.

Alex was in exactly the same position as Gene, knew enough to be able to figure out none of that the dead matched his description but didn't know enough to be able to relax. They were gathering names and addresses of witness, taking down statements, coordinating responses and all Alex wanted to do was find Gene. But she couldn't. She was stuck in a hellhole of her own making and she couldn't escape. She had asked everyone she met if they had seen him and all answers were negative. When Mooreland heard her enquire about Gene he had snapped her head off.

"DI Drake! Focus on your work. People have died here today. I'm sure your love life can wait."

She felt her face getting hot with embarrassment and anger so she bent her head over her reports. She would not give that wanker the satisfaction of seeing that his words had wounded her. There was no way Mooreland knew about her relationship with Gene; it was just his way of goading her.

That was true; Mooreland hadn't the first clue that Alex and Gene were together but he did know exactly where Gene was. Mooreland already knew that the standard operational procedure was for all officers to work with their own divisions on a bomb scene – something that Alex didn't know. However, as long as the Chief Superintendent hadn't spotted Alex, then she was going to stay where she was and sodding _Superintendent_ Hunt could survive with those apes he called a team. It was bad enough that Hunt had David Crane. He sure as hell wasn't getting Drake too.

When the second bomb detonated in Regents Park, Alex felt even worse. In fact, she had thrown up behind some convenient bushes, physically ill with the reality of a bomb attack that she seemed to know about. Was this why she had been avoiding the parks? Had she known, at some level, that this was going to happen? She might have been able to prevent this if she had examined her irrational fear. But overriding all of that was her frantic concern for Gene. What if he had been injured? What if he wanted her now and she wasn't with him? He could be badly hurt and he was alone…

Not for the first time that day, Mooreland interrupted her thoughts. "Drake, take these down to Alpha. I can't stand your moping any longer," he said, offloading a stack of heavy folders into her arms. The Chief Superintendent was doing the rounds and would find Alex here any moment. It was time for her to clear off.

Alex narrowed her eyes at him when the weight of the folders became evident. He walked off without so much as a backwards glance or a thank you. He really was a colossal wanker. The PC who had been working with her all day took some of the folders and she smiled wearily at him.

"Thank you, Mark," she said and together they set off. It took almost fifteen minutes but at last, the makeshift tent of Command Post Alpha came into view. They were let through the cordon and dropped their burdens on the Chief Super's desk where she met David Crane; at last a friendly face who might be able to help.

"Oh, David," she began desperately, "please tell me if Gene -" Alex stopped because she thought she heard…

"What do you mean, you didn't _know_? I asked you to shift this stuff a bloody hour ago!"

Gene?

Her heart sped up. It was him. Alex looked frantically around and then she saw him. Off at the far end of the cordon, in another three-sided makeshift tent, he was kicking angrily at reams of green and white striped computer paper which had unfurled around his feet and a demure looking PC was standing there, looking suitably chagrined.

"For the last time, get this frigging stuff OUT of my way before I feed it, and you, into the shredder!"

Her mouth wouldn't work so she lurched forward and ran towards him not caring who was looking at her. Her whole focus was taken up with him and he seemed to sense it. He turned and saw her instantly.

Crane watched the two of them and immediately knew what had happened. Now it all made sense. Now he understood what the Guv was doing here so soon after the explosion. They were obviously supposed to meet in the park, as it was only a short distance from Scotland Yard. It explained why he had been so insistent in knowing about the dead and injured. He had been trying to find out about Alex.

Gene moved faster than Crane had ever seen the Guv move and in a split second, he had Alex crushed in his arms, both of them too overcome for words. It was the first time that they had been affectionate with each other when people from work were around but they were long past caring about that now. There was no mistaking that embrace as she had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, one of his hands clutched the back of her head, the other splayed on her back, his face buried between her shoulder and neck.

Crane couldn't even begin to imagine the torment both had suffered that day. Each one thinking the other had been injured. Or worse.

David left them alone for a moment or two and then moved over to them. "Guv? Alex? Why don't you two go home? There's nothing more for you to do today. Guv, I'll have any reports on your desk tomorrow but for now, go. Get out of here."

Gene nodded quickly at him in thanks. He clasped Alex's hand and scanned around for Ray and Chris. He spotted them over near the main tent and made his way over to them as he didn't want to leave without them knowing about it.

Chris turned around at that moment and saw the overwrought pair heading towards them. They both looked so awful that Chris did a double take and nudged Ray, just as they arrived. The Guv looked like he had aged ten years and Drake wasn't much better.

Gene spoke first. "Right lads. We're going now. You stick around with Crane but don't stay here all bloody night. You're all to get out of here within the hour."

Ray nodded. "Got it, Guv. Good to see you, Boss."

Alex gave him a grim, tired smile which didn't reach her eyes. Ray saw that they both looked absolutely wretched, the Guv especially so. Ray knew exactly how that felt. What was it about a bomb that seemed to suck the life out of you, whether you were physically injured or not?

"Where's the car, Guv?"

"Scotty Yard," he sighed, absolutely shattered. Fuck it – they'd have to go and get it.

"My car is at Edinburgh Gate… I think… somewhere around there," said Alex, trying to remember. Mooreland made her move it to some side road. She was appalled at the sudden tears that welled up. She just wanted to go home.

Ray saw their exhaustion and tossed a bunch of keys at Chris. "Chris, take these. They're for that squad car over there. Chris'll have you home in a jiffy, Guv. He can collect that bunch of radios from Post Charlie at Lancaster Gate on his way back."

Gene gave Ray a friendly clap on the shoulder, relieved that someone on his team was still thinking straight. Alex tired to say something to Ray but instead she just nodded at him. Ray looked at her and was surprised at how sorry he felt for her as tears, ink and grime were all evident on her pale face. Following Chris to the car, Gene sat with Alex in the back, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She leaned into him and closed her eyes and his head rested on hers. Chris said nothing, recognising that now would be a good time to hold his tongue. He was stopped a few times but was able to talk his way around the road blocks and soon, he pulled up outside the Guv's house off Warwick Avenue.

"G'night, Chris," mumbled Gene as he helped Alex out of the car. "Thanks."

"Night, Guv. Night, Boss."

Alex's muted reply was a simple thanks and following Gene inside, she closed the front door behind them.

.oOo.


	6. Little Venice

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Grateful thanks to Lucida Bright, as always, who has tidied this lot up probably more times than she would care to remember. Thanks also to all those of you who continue to read and review; I very much appreciate every one of them. If I didn't know you liked it, I wouldn't bother writing.

**Summary**: Continuing on from where _One Another's Shadow_ finished, we find Gene and Alex together and very happy about it. They have their moments but manage to work through it. As always, the crime world moves on, not giving our favourite pair much of a honeymoon period. A spate of armed robberies has everyone perplexed and the Met have to be seen to "do something" about it. With very little notice, Alex is transferred to Scotland Yard and DI David Crane becomes Gene's new DI. However, this won't be for long as Gene has been promoted to Superintendent. He hasn't taken up the position yet but is due to do so shortly. In the meantime, he has selected his new DCI, Andrew Capplan, who'll be joining the Fenchurch gang in due course. Meanwhile, on the morning of July 20th 1982, Alex and Gene have a blazer of a row over her paranoia about London's parks. He stalks off in a huff and Alex crumbles, barely managing to haul herself into work because this day wasn't just any ordinary day. It's one year since she arrived in Gene's world, it's also Molly's birthday and it's the anniversary of the last day she saw her daughter. They both sit in misery in their respective offices and decide they can't let the day go on without apologising. But world events catch up with them and a bomb explodes at their intended meeting point in Hyde Park. Both spend the next few hours convinced that the other has been injured, or worse, killed. They can't do anything to find out for sure (a situation not helped by Gene's old enemy, one DCI Mooreland) and don't know if they'll ever get a chance to put things right again. A chance meeting in a police Operation Post leads us to this moment and back to Gene's house, in Little Venice, near Paddington Station.

* * *

**Little Venice**

Once inside the house, they stood looking at one another for a beat and then flung their arms around each other to apologies and tearful words.

"I'm so sorry, my love," cried Alex, holding him as tightly as she could. "Oh, I thought I'd lost you. I'd never have forgiven myself. Never, Gene. Never."

He kissed her deeply. "You weren't in your office and I tried to find you… and then that bomb went off…" His voice broke and he couldn't continue. He wasn't ashamed to let her see his tears. He had never, ever, cried in front of anybody. Not since he was six years old and his father knocked ten bells out of him for doing it.

The shock of almost losing Alex, of her vanishing from his life, ripped right through his very soul. He knew, when he saw her standing in that operation post, the he loved this woman with his whole being. It wasn't possible for him to be without her any more. He buried his face against her again, another shuddering sob shaking him. "How were you not hurt?" he gasped. "Oh thank Christ… Alex…"

Alex mirrored his miserable state. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot; she was cold and shaky and exhausted, just as he was. Gently, she brushed the tears from his face and kissed him.

"I tried to find you too," she explained, her voice shaking and broken. "I left work early and tried to get to Fenchurch to see you. Oh Gene, I love you so much. Never forget that. I know we tease each other and that I say _love you always, Shirley_ but..." she broke off and sobbed, "No matter what happens, remember that I love you and that I mean it. So much. Can't ever be without you."

"I already know, sweetheart. I knew it when I walked out that door this morning too. It was the wrong thing to do and you have no idea how much I've regretted that choice all day. I walked away from you; after everything we've been through… I'm so sorry, my love." He kissed her again, trying to put everything he felt for her into the kiss.

* * *

After a few moments, she tugged his hand and led him up the stairs. Tenderly, they helped each other undress and wash, eager to get the grime of this horrible day off their bodies. Gene kept shivering and Alex could see the hairs on his arms standing on end. Not even the hot water was helping him. She pulled him close to her, feeling how cold he was.

"It's okay. It's okay now," she murmured, her voice low and comforting. She rubbed her hands vigorously up and down his arms and across his back until his shivers stopped and he felt warmer. He kissed her in grateful thanks and then returned the favour. Alex's hair was badly tangled but he patiently massaged the shampoo through it, carefully separating out the knots until he could run his fingers through it without them getting snarled. He kept at it until the tension had left her body and she relaxed, leaning her head against his chest in contentment. Then they stood under the steaming water, with their arms around each other, until it turned tepid.

Leaving the shower, he shaved while she dried her hair, careful not to tangle it again. She sat on the side of the bath, wrapped in a big fluffy towel, and watched him. Eventually, he was done and sat beside her, pulling her close to him again.

"Mmm," she hummed into his neck, surrounded by the faint scent of his shaving foam.

He trailed his fingers through her almost dry hair, a lot longer now than it was when he first met her, and breathed deeply. "I love that lemony shampoo you use." He sniffed again. "Eau de Bolly."

"It's your shampoo, Gene," she smiled, kissing his jaw.

"I knew you smelled familiar," he grinned and stood up. "Come on."

They moved towards the bedroom, both equally craving the closeness to be found in the other. They made love slowly and gently. It was life affirming, joyous, a reconnection of sorts after their meltdown earlier that day. Alex moved over him, her warm body heating his and vice versa. He loved watching her like this. Her head thrown back in ecstasy; her face, neck and chest flushed; her hands reaching for his chest and shoulders. God, she was so beautiful.

Alex too loved watching him just as much as he loved watching her. In particular, she loved the way his strong, large hands held her securely against him. One hand might move from her hip to her back, holding her exactly where tingles shot up and down her spine. His eyes were a dark blue now, almost navy, as they directed their focus solely on to her. She loved his shoulders and the way his hair would flop onto his forehead. He always laughed off her declarations that he was beautiful but he was. She knew every inch of his body and loved touching the places that made him react to her the most.

Together, with each other, was all they wanted.

* * *

Afterwards, Alex lay on his chest, her legs tucked up along his sides. Gene kept his arms around her, hoping she could stay in that position for as long as possible. They didn't speak for ages, relishing in the quietness of the room and the peaceful comfort they found in each other's arms. He felt the pull of sleep dragging his eyes shut. No. He squeezed his eyes closed in a forced blink and opened them again, only for them to start drifting down a few seconds later.

"It's all right, love," she soothed, sensing his battle, as one soft hand moved up to caress his cheek. "Sleep."

"No. Not yet," he whispered, gliding a hand up and down her back.

She knew what he was waiting for.

"I can't explain it, Gene. I can't say why I knew something bad was going to happen in those parks. I just did."

"Are you psychic now, on top of everything else?" He felt a warm wetness on his chest. "Bolls? Hey… sweetheart… don't…" He shifted her up into his arms properly and rolled over so they were facing each other. "Don't cry…"

"I never explored that stupid, irrational fear," she sobbed. "I never did. I just locked it away and wouldn't look at it. Gene… what if I could have prevented all those deaths today? What if I-"

He placed a finger on her lips. "All the exploration in the world would never have told you the exact dates and times. Unless you had an informant in the IRA there is nothing you could have done that would have prevented today. How could you ever be so precise and so… certain?" He deliberately used that word because that was Alex's gold standard for police work. She never considered a case was closed or a lead worth following unless she was certain that all aspects had been covered properly.

The truth of his words seemed to sink in with her. He was right – no matter how hard she tried, Alex would never have been able to identify the source of her worries. In fact, memories of the future world were all but gone at this point. Her year in this place made everything else from the other time feel like a fading dream. Occasionally, like the days leading up to today, she got flashes that felt like strong déjà vu, but they were fleeting and were gone as soon as she focused on them. Only Molly's existence, whenever that was, still burned brightly within her. She couldn't pinpoint the time when 1982 became her reality. It just was.

Alex had accepted her life, her existence, and was all the happier for it. Gene was her constant support and she relied on him to keep her grounded. They helped and needed each other but the occasions where they really talked like this were few and far between. However, each time had taught them so much as another layer was stripped from both of them when innermost thoughts and feelings were spoken about in the quiet darkness.

Gene waited for her to think things through, by now used to her long "processing time" when she had something to mull over. At times like this, she was like that computer which hogged his desk, still and eerily silent as the cogs whizzed around inside. Usually she was lightning fast, ballsy and sharp as a tack. But she also knew when to pause and think, giving the important things the time they merited.

Eventually, nodding slowly and putting her feelings of remorse for the bombing victims to one side, her hazel eyes met his. "There's something else too," she whispered.

"What?"

Alex took a deep breath. "Today is my Molly's thirteenth birthday and it's also the anniversary of the last day I saw her."

A snippet of their argument from this morning flashed through his mind; _And anyway, I didn't want to celebrate today. If you'd just asked me…_

His thumb gently caressed her cheek. "Oh, Alex, love. You should've told me." His voice was filled with concern but also contained a gentle rebuke.

She let the tears fall. "I know. I know I should have. You know how this feels better than anyone. I c-can't… I j-just…"

He blotted at her tears with some of the sheet, hating to see the distress etched into her face. So, this was what had been bothering her lately. He knew exactly what this agony was like. And he also, for the first time, felt what it was like to have a partner who didn't want to share the grief. He was the one who had been left out as Alex kept her anguish close. It was an isolating experience; knowing that he could have helped her, that he wanted to, but that she had said nothing. That she had shut him out.

However, her silence had only been for a few days. He had kept his silence with his wife for years. So, curiously, he could also understand why Alex had said nothing. After all, he was the champion of saying nothing. She didn't need his rebuke or his hurt because she already was feeling those things. Devastated over Molly and sad because she knew she had hurt him. Bollocks to it.

"Come here," he said, putting both arms around her and pulling her close. "Grief makes us act differently, Bolls. I know it. I've been there and fucked it all up. But you? You're getting that silent poison out of your system. Forget, 'should've told me.' That's bollocks. You're telling me now and that's all that matters."

"But if I h-had told you," she sniffled as she tried to swallow back her tears, "then this morning would never have happened and we wouldn't have argued. I needed you today and instead I pushed you away. And we wouldn't have spent all day in a broken-hearted daze thinking about each other and what might have been our last words. On today of all days, Gene, when we should've been together, why did I do it? To you? To us? I… c-can't…" She cried louder and clung to him. "You could've died alone… and t-thought I was angry with you…"

Her distress cut into him as she sobbed bitterly. Tears for her daughter and tears for their argument. The poor thing. He hugged her tightly, waiting for the harsh sobs to subside a little before speaking softly. "And do you think our argument is what I'd have remembered about you if I was dying? Is a stupid argument what you would've remembered about me?"

"N-n-no," she sniffled, her breath hitching.

"No. Because as I've already told you, the second I walked out, I was already thinking about how much we loved each other. I don't need you to remind me all the time that you love me, Alex. I know you do. No matter what happens to us, I will _always_ know that. And you know that I love you more than anything else. Fuck that walking out bullshit. I will never do that again. We're still going to have thundering great arguments, we're both too stubborn for it to be any other way, but we're going to have them face to face."

She sniffed and managed a watery smile. "Thundering great arguments are usually followed by thundering great sex."

"I know. It restores the natural order of things," he grinned cheekily and wiped what he hoped would be the last of her tears away.

She kissed him. "And you're a big believer in natural order?"

"Oh, yes. Natural order is my big focus these days. I don't watch all those David Attenborough programmes for nothing, you know. Strong versus week. Lion versus antelope. All that malarkey."

"I think that's called natural _selection_, Gene."

"Selection… order… who gives a fuck? It all ends in sex anyway."

That made her laugh as he hoped it would and she reached up to kiss him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, pet."

They spent another half hour talking quietly about her grief and heartache for Molly and about the misery of the events that day. There was just one other thing Gene wanted to discuss and he figured he may as well get it over with. It was part of his original plan for today and he had spent weeks thinking about it.

"Alex, I know that today has been hell but…" he trailed off, suddenly unsure if he should broach this subject now. Yes, he had planned it, but what if it was too much?

"What?"

Here goes nothing. "Seeing as how you're so good at it, I'd like you to think about something for me."

She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.

"Would you think about us getting married? I'm not asking you right now, I'd just like you to give it some thought and see if you could do the whole married thing again." He held his breath. She was either going to laugh or turn him down.

"Okay."

He blinked. "Huh?"

She smiled and brushed her thumb across his lips. "I said okay."

He tried to act as if he was taking her answer in his stride. "That's good, Bolls. Er, great. Excellent, in fact. And you'll let me know when, eh, when you're done thinking?"

"Well, maybe the best thing to do would be for us both to mull it over together, hmm?"

Gene smiled. "I can do that."

She hugged him. "That's good. Great. Excellent, in fact."

He looked her straight in the eye. "Are you taking the piss out of me?"

"Nope."

"You ruddy are," he laughed and rolled over on to her. "Now, you know what the penalty is for general piss taking."

"Oh, goody. I _love_ that one. Bring it on," she replied, kissing him deeply.

Gene pulled back after a moment or two and held her head between his hands, giving her one of his searching looks. "It's been an absolute bastard of a day but as long as you're okay, that's all I need to know."

"I'm okay," she replied sincerely. "I always am, once I'm with you. Are you all right now too?"

He nodded slowly. "Had the living daylights scared out of me but yeah, you're here now. We're here now. I'm more than all right."

She smiled and smoothed his hair back. "Good."

"Good," he repeated, one long finger tracing her eyebrow. "Before we get around to your penalty, are you hungry?"

Now that her attention was drawn to it, she realised she was, as she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. "Famished."

"Right. Let's get some grub and then… we can finish what we've started."

"Shouldn't that be; we've started so we'll finish?" She grinned up at him.

"I'm no Mastermind, Bollykecks," he grinned back. "And now that you've put an image of Magnús Magnússon in my head, I'm not in the mood."

She laughed again and he let her wriggle free. They got up, dressed in some casual clothes and made their way downstairs.

* * *

It was late, but the high summer sun had only disappeared a short while ago and the sky was still tinged with a faint brightness to the west. Alex opened the back door and sat down on the step, her plate of rabbit food balanced on her knees. Gene was waiting for his baked beans to heat properly. The tomatoes were grilling nicely and the sausages were almost done. When he was ready he sat beside her, both listening to the rumbling city noises. Sirens still wailed and there was a general air of uneasiness around the place, ruining the balmy summer atmosphere. They ate in silence, glad to be together in this safe place.

"I love it here," she said eventually, as she watched a neighbour's cat totter nervously across the back fences and disappear into the lane. It need not have worried. The dog next door was obviously too hot, lazy and tired to muster anything stronger than a growl.

"Good. Move in then," he said easily. "Stay."

She leaned against his shoulder. "It's not that simple."

"'Course it is. As things are, you're here more often than not. You like it. I want you here. What's so complicated about that?"

"Darling man," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "I don't know how you even afforded this place, Gene. And I have nothing. I can't just move in without us sorting something out. It wouldn't be fair to you."

He shrugged. "I'm not rich, Bolls. No secret accounts stashed away anywhere. I got this house because a mate of mine in the Met was transferring back to Bristol. His missus wanted a quick sale and I wanted a quick buy. Teresa had been decent-ish about the divorce so I had some money from the sale of the house. Then, just before I moved here, Mam died and I was left everything. In total, this house cost me roughly one and a third Manchester houses plus another fifteen grand."

Alex sucked in a breath. "Fifteen thousand? You say it like it's nothing."

"I only needed a mortgage for £7,500. Mam never touched a penny of the money my old man left her. I had no such difficulty. The way I figured it, the miserable bastard owed me one. So with his contribution, plus some money that Mam had, I was sorted."

She hugged his arm. "It's such a lot of money, Gene. I wouldn't feel right about it unless I could contribute in some way."

"Bolls, what use is this house to me without you? I bought a house because I couldn't stand living in a flat. I rented a flat after the divorce and I nearly went out of my tree. Too used to having my own front door. But it's lonely here without you and… I don't want to be alone any more. I'd like you to move in and stay. I don't need money from you; I just need you. I need us in our home."

She kissed him deeply, letting him see how much those words meant to her. "I know you don't need the money," she said eventually. "But I couldn't call this place ours unless…"

"Unless what?"

"You take all of the ridiculously small amount I have and use it as a payment off the mortgage. Then we use my full salary to pay off the rest."

That seemed reasonable to Gene as her entire salary was more than what he was repaying at the moment anyway. "Okay. We live off mine and use yours to clear the debt."

Alex looked up at him, having expected some protest.

"What?" he asked, catching her look. "If that's what you want to do then that's fine with me."

"Really?"

"Alex, what's the big deal? _If_ we got married something like this would happen automatically anyway."

She bit her lip. Inadvertently, he had hit on exactly what was bothering her. "I know it would and I don't want it to seem like I'm a… gold-digger or something."

He chuckled and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke into the night air. "Fucking hell, Bolls. Women have been after me before but never, ever, has it been because of my money and distinct lack thereof. You're a Detective Inspector in the Met, for crying out loud. You can pay your own way. If it makes you feel any better, we can have all this drawn up with one of them blood sucking solicitors you're so fond of."

She kissed his cheek and his free hand that was captured in hers. "So… we're going to do this?"

"Seems like it to me," he grinned and flicked some ash away.

"It'll take a few weeks to get it all sorted out."

He shrugged. "That's probably not a bad thing as it gives us a bit of time to sort ourselves out too. Think it over."

She nodded slowly, thinking that for one of the worst days she ever experienced, it had an almost perfect end. They smiled warmly at each other.

"This talking business isn't so bad," he said eventually.

"Nope. It's what the grown ups do apparently."

"Do you know what else grown ups do?" He gave her a crafty smile.

"I couldn't possibly hazard a guess," she replied, getting to her feet and pulling him up.

"Hmm. Try," he whispered, kissing her neck. He stepped back briefly and gathered their plates up from the step. Then, drawing her into the kitchen, he dumped the crockery in the sink.

The radio in the corner quietly announced the late shipping forecast. Gene turned it up and swayed with her in his arms in time to the soft theme tune, wishing it would last a bit longer. They moved around the kitchen floor and as they passed by various scattered utensils, Alex dropped them into their rightful places in drawers and presses. He kissed her again and reached around her to lock the back door as the shipping forecast theme segued into the forecast proper, pronouncing a calm night for Cromarty, Forth & Co.

"Now that's what I call multi-tasking. Dancing, tidying, locking up and putting the moves on me," she purred in his ear, both of her hands running up and down his spine under his shirt, making him shiver.

"Really? You need to get out more." Somehow, they managed to negotiate the stairs and find the bedroom but not before Gene, in another display of adept multi-tasking, knocked the phone off the hook as he passed by with Alex wound around him.

.oOo.

* * *

**Musical note**: If you don't know what music is played to the late night shipping forecast on BBC Radio 4 sounds like then look up, "Sailing By" by Robert Binge which is probably one of the most recognisable tunes from BBC radio. Someone has uploaded the whole piece on YouTube but be careful not to look at the video or you'll collapse from seasickness.


	7. No place like home

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: A special thanks, as always to my splendid beta, Lucida Bright, who managed to wade through this while suffering. I'm sure the original version added to her misery so I do apologise to her for putting her through that. Thanks also to all of you who continue to read and review. Thanks for your patience - I know I haven't updated in ages. I could give excuses or I could just get on with the story.

* * *

**Summary**: Continuing on from where _One Another's Shadow_ finished, we find Gene and Alex together and very happy about it. They have their moments but manage to work through it. As always, the crime world moves on, not giving our favourite pair much of a honeymoon period. A spate of armed robberies has everyone perplexed and the Met have to be seen to "do something" about it. With very little notice, Alex is transferred to Scotland Yard and DI David Crane becomes Gene's new DI. However, this won't be for long as Gene has been promoted to Superintendent. He hasn't taken up the position yet but is due to do so shortly. In the meantime, he has selected his new DCI, Andrew Capplan. Meanwhile, on the morning of July 20th 1982, Alex and Gene have a blazer of a row over her paranoia about London's parks. But world events catch up with them and a bomb explodes at their intended meeting point in Hyde Park. Both spend the next few hours convinced that the other has been injured, or worse, killed. They don't know if they'll ever get a chance to put things right again. A chance meeting in a police Operation Post reunited them and was the catalyst for an evening they would never forget. With no barriers left between them any more, they finally talk to each other and understand what they want. Now, they have to face the morning after the day before.

* * *

.oOo.

She blinked slowly. Damn, she wasn't imagining it; it _was_ morning already. Determined to stave off the inevitable bustle of the day for a moment longer, she cuddled in close to Gene's back. He snored on, fast asleep and oblivious to her movements. Alex stayed still for a few minutes and then kissed the nape of his neck, her hand straying over his chest. He stirred and then she felt one of his hands catch hers.

"Hmmm," he rumbled.

"Morning," she replied, kissing him again.

"Can't be."

"Is, though."

"Pox."

"Quite."

With a groan, he rolled around to face her and put an arm around her. He kissed her lightly and mumbled, "Morning, Bollykecks."

Alex gave him a teasing smile. "Morning, Shirley."

He snorted. "Flamin' cheek."

"You love it."

"Huh," he grumped, and was just about to smile at her but the alarm clock rang. "Oh, shut UP, you bastard!" He groaned loudly and flung a pillow at it.

Knocked off its bedside locker perch, it continued to ring plaintively from the floor, buried under the pillow.

"I really hate that thing," he glowered, looking for something heavier to throw. Her book would do.

Alex crawled over him, grabbed the book before he could inflict permanent damage, and rescuing the clock, she hit the snooze button. "There. All done," she smiled, manoeuvring herself back over him. "Seven minutes until it starts again."

"You know, I always thought that 'beat the alarm clock' was a literal thing until you came along and corrupted me," he smiled, giving her that innocent look of his.

"Yeah, right. _I_ corrupted poor little innocent _you_," she scoffed. "Six minutes, thirty seconds, Gene." She shrieked as he flipped her over.

"You know I can't resist a challenge," he grinned at her.

"That I do," she whispered, kissing him soundly. She looked up at him and was suddenly overwhelmed, the feelings of desperation and fright from yesterday washing over her. She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to her and hugging him as tightly as she could. Gene knew what she was thinking and held her equally as tightly. "I love you, sweetheart. So much," she whispered into his ear, wishing that they could stay like this all day.

"Love you too, darlin'," he replied, loathe to let her out of his sight and sad that he had to. Why had he agreed to her transfer again?

Her fingers traced along his shoulder. "I wish I could be with you today. Wish I could've worked with you yesterday... Oh Gene... it was so awful. We were so near yet so far away from each other."

That puzzled him. "Whatever do you mean, Bolls? Didn't you come from Post Charlie straight to us? I thought you were held up in traffic or –"

Alex propped herself up on an elbow in confusion. "No. I was in Bravo with Branch all day."

Gene's insides turned to molten lava and a lump of ice at the same time. "Bravo? With Mooreland?" he asked, his voice neutral.

She nodded. "He saw me near the cordon and let me work with them. Right up until twenty minutes before we met down in Alpha, actually. At least I could sort of work out that you hadn't been killed but I was so worried... frantic even," she hugged him again and he was certain she'd hear his heart pounding.

_Mooreland "let" her work with them, did he? That fucking prick. Keep calm, Gene. She doesn't know that she was caught in Mooreland's little power-play._ He kissed her forehead. "Did you let Mooreland know that you were looking for me?"

Alex's face reddened at the memory. "Yeah, he umm, he heard me asking about you but..."

He kissed her again. "Doesn't matter, Bolly. I know what comes after that butt. A giant arse."

She gave a small laugh. "He really dislikes you, doesn't he?"

"Feeling's mutual," he growled. "He's even more of a prick than usual because he didn't get Superintendent. Anyway, let's not talk about him any more. I'll have a discreet word in his ear and that'll be that." _I'll have more than a fucking word. I'll fucking rip both ears off him and shove them up that -_

"Why do I get the feeling that something else is going on here?" she asked, watching him closely.

He shrugged. "DCI Mooreland just fucked with the wrong Super, that's all. But you know me... bring to the boil and leave simmer until ready to serve. Then leave uncovered for two weeks by which time I'll give you botulism. When the time comes, that asshole isn't going to know what's hit him."

"I know revenge is a dish best served cold," she added, seeing the glint in his eye. "But be careful and don't get into any trouble."

"I'm always careful."

"Course you are, Gene."

"I am! Always careful not to get caught, that is." He grinned at her cheekily.

Alex chuckled and kissed him, twirling some of his hair around her finger.

Gene groaned against her mouth. "Oh no... I've just remembered..."

"What?"

"I've to get the ruddy car out of the Yard this morning."

"Bugger."

He huffed in annoyance and then the alarm rang again to his accompanying world-weary sigh.

"Bolly, some day very soon, I'm going to whisk you away to a remote desert island where fucking alarms clocks, telephones, jobs, cars and whatever the fuck else is cause for interruption, haven't been invented yet. You, me, a bed and enough decent booze and grub to keep us going for two weeks. That's it."

"Sounds perfect," she sighed and stretched.

"I mean it, Bolls," he grumbled with a yawn, and, swinging his legs out of bed, he kicked the clock further under the pillow.

"Cheer up, sleepy Gene," she sang, cuddling against his back again.

He could feel her smile against him and he laughed lowly. "That was bloody awful, that was, Bolly."

"It may be but it made you smile," she replied and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "We're both here. Both alive to be hassled by all the little annoyances of day-to-day life. But we're here. Together."

"I know. I just want you to myself today, that's all," he replied, threading his fingers through hers. "But I can't. We've to go in and fiddle about with reports and paper and I've to be the Guv and you've to be Detective Inspector Drake of New Scotland Yard."

"And when we've done a day's work, we get to come back here, lock the front door, take the phone off the hook and shag each other senseless. How does that sound?"

"Shag each other senseless, take the phone off the hook, lock the front door, come back here and do a day's work?" he asked, hopefully.

"Other way around, smartarse." She kissed his shoulder with a laugh and got out of bed.

"_Bugger_."

* * *

Rather than going to the Yard for his beloved Quattro, Gene deigned to use public transport. As Alex had to go to the Yard anyway, it made sense for her to pick the car up. Neither of them were particularly looking forward to the day and knowing that they wouldn't be working together made it worse. They crammed on to the packed underground carriage, Gene using the squash to his best advantage, much to Alex's chagrin.

"Gene! Move your hand!" she hissed, as an elderly lady shot them a look of deep disapproval.

"Gosh. Sorry about that, Bolls. Didn't realise," he replied, eyes twinkling as he gave her bum another squeeze.

She gave up and slipped her arms around his waist, holding him as tightly as she could as her stop approached. The tube shuddered to a halt at St James' Park and the doors clattered open, spilling people on to the platform but Alex still couldn't let him go. Before she knew it, they were both on the platform, her hand safely in his. With a loud beep, the doors shut and the train moved off.

He looked down at her. "Oh shit. It left without me," he said dryly.

"Good," she replied, her thumb caressing the back of his hand. "Can't..."

"Yeah. Me neither," he replied, and hugged her close.

They stood on the platform, not knowing how they were going to let each other go. Yesterday had been so awful and the news this morning had been filled with reports about the dead and injured. It could have so easily have been them.

They both felt a rush of air as another train approached. "Go, Bolly. It'll be okay," he said into her ear, kissing her softly.

She kissed him back and cupped his face in her hands. "I love you. Try to leave work early."

He nodded and once more held her close as the train arrived and more people thronged out to the platform. "Love you. See you at home - no later than six," he said and let her go with a final quick kiss.

"Six," she repeated, waiting until he was on the carriage. Then the doors shut with a slam and the train slowly moved away, their eyes fixed on each other for the few brief seconds before the carriages vanished into the tunnel. She heaved a huge sigh and moved with the crowd to the outside air. It was hard to believe that only 24 hours ago, she had been right here, broken hearted over their argument. Such a short space of time, well, it had been life changing. His last words sent a warm glow through her. _See you at home_.

She had a home. After all this time, Alex finally knew she belonged.

* * *

Far from getting his wish to have Alex all to himself, Gene found that the next few days were some of the busiest of his life. Not only did he have to oversee all the briefing documents and reports from his team at the bomb site, he also had to clear out his office, spend every other waking moment with the outgoing Super and prepare for the arrival of his new DCI.

Before Capplan arrived, Gene wanted to ensure that minor cases were either resolved or were as close to being resolved as possible. The major ongoing cases needed to be reorganised and consolidated for Capplan, so he could join in smoothly with the investigative processes. Gene had Chris ensconced in the collators office, going through everything and getting it in order. Shaz had been dispatched to the evidence room to finish the reorganisation task, which began so long ago with Alex. Shaz had only a few cases left to sort out so Gene was confident that if he left her alone, she'd soon have everything right and would be liaising with Chris; it was vital for someone to keep an eye on him.

Ray had barely been given enough time to draw breath as Gene had him chasing up leads with snouts and finalising a few tantalising tip-offs they had received at one time or another but simply hadn't enough time or manpower to investigate properly. Ray had been given a carte blanche to take whomever he wanted with him on these fact-finding missions and he loved wielding the power without having Gene or a disapproving DI standing over his shoulder. Even better, he didn't have that div Chris trotting about with him either. Ray was free, out doing his thing, and he loved it. Gene had to turn a blind eye to the swagger in Ray's step and he just hoped that the power wouldn't go to Ray's head. Now, more than ever, he didn't need a Ray fuck up to ruin things. Or a Chris one, for that matter.

He really should have known better. With so much going on, their previous "conversation" with Tricky Dick was long forgotten and Chris, following Ray's instructions, had filed the paperwork on the registration plate lead in Tricky Dick's file. Ray had told him to forget about it and just write up what he had. Chris placed all of that work, incorrectly, in the "snouts section" and Shaz locked the filing cabinet.

Diligently, she hung the keys up in Viv's office and made another note in the folder for DCI Capplan. "_Informant / snout files are organised alphabetically. Sergeant James records who has the keys to the cabinet and nobody can get access to the cabinet without asking him first."_

* * *

Leaving Alex's case until the very last, Gene had requested that she come up to Fenchurch for the day on Friday to fill everyone in on her research into the armed robberies. He wanted everyone to know what was going on and wanted to give Alex a chance to explain her findings to her old team before everything changed. She had spent the morning setting up her presentation boards in the office and Shaz had helped her to photocopy a briefing paper for everyone. She was ready by midday and everyone was assembled in CID for one last time. This was not lost on the crowd and Gene had received a few handshakes and claps on the shoulder already.

He plonked himself down behind Alex's old desk, swung his feet up on the table, coughed loudly for silence and the meeting began. "So, Bolls. What's your stint down with the head honchos told us?"

"Quite a bit actually," she said, pulling the white board around. It was covered in neatly laid out diagrams and photos. Ray stifled a groan but quickly turned it into a cough when Alex shot him a glare.

Gene's eyes were fixed on a photograph the board. "Oh fuck... do not tell me that Chas Cale is mixed up in this. _Do not_!"

"I think he might be. At least, I'm not sure yet. His name came up a few times."

"I'll just bet it did," he growled and took a sip of his tea. "The poxy little scrote. Okay, take us through the whole thing."

Alex did so, explaining all the armed robbery cases that had taken place in the area within the last ten years. Some she discounted because of what she called "extenuating circumstances". All one-off robberies, carried out by a drug addict or mentally ill person etc were consigned to that category. That left her with quite a number of cases and as she worked her way through, patterns began to emerge. She held the interest of everyone in CID for almost two hours. By the end of it, she had talked herself hoarse.

"I think that's it," she croaked. Shaz handed her a glass of water which she took gratefully.

"Bloody hell," exclaimed Gene. "Bolly's run out of words. Someone needs to note the date and time for posterity. A momentous day for more than one reason, this."

She was about to shoot him a smart reply back but she coughed instead and gave him a "you're _so_ funny" look.

Gene grinned and got to his feet. "Well done, Bolls. Seems like you didn't waste your time over there. But I bet you're glad to be back in good ol' Fenchurch East for the day, huh?"

"Thrilled, Guv." She grimaced and wafted Ray's cigarette smoke away from her.

"Course you are. Right you lot – questions?"

Chris timidly raised his hand. "Er… Boss? Now that we know there's a gang or two in operation, what are we supposed to do about it? How do we follow these unknown people?"

Alex took another gulp of water before replying. "Good point, Chris. I don't think we could waste time and resources chasing this one up."

"But we have to," said Ray, keen to get his spoke in. Bloody Chris. Teacher's pet. "If we have all this information, it'd be pointless to sit on it an' just wait for the next blag. Could be one of us who gets shot next."

She flinched at his words but didn't let it show. "And that is precisely I like us to work with -"

There were groans all around the office. "Oh, not Special Branch _again_, Boss," moaned Chris and then realised that Crane was sitting right beside him. "Oh… no offence, Sir. You were all right, er, are all right, I mean."

"It's fine, DC Skelton," replied Crane, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Useless twonks," growled Gene, getting irritated with the interruptions. "There _are_ other divisions in the Met, you know. It's not just us and Branch. No. This time, Bolly wants us to work with the Flying Squad."

"The Sweeney?" said Ray, slightly in awe. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she confirmed. "But this is going to be a big operation so we're just going to meet them first before deciding on anything. Resources are an issue here. I'd like you all to look over what I've put together so that we all know what we're talking about. Okay?"

"Okay, Boss," said the gathered few.

"Good. Right… lunchtime, Guv?"

"Thank Christ. Lunchtime it is. Raymondo, mine's a pint and it better not be all froth."

"Got it, Guv," replied Ray, kicking his chair under his desk in his rush to get out the door.

"Bolls, a moment of your time." Gene pointed to his office.

CID emptied out as Alex followed him. He closed the door behind them and sat on the edge of his desk facing her. "I can't say I'm thrilled about all this Flying Squad stuff."

"I know you're not. Me neither." They had already spent hours discussing her cases and he knew that she had to do this, despite his reservations.

"If at all possible let's just… wait and see what The Sweeney propose, if anything. Pack of ball scratchers, the lot of them."

She stood in front of him and took his hands. "Thief taking and waiting for armed robberies is what Flying Squad do. It's not what I do so don't you worry. I'll let them do their job and I'll do mine."

He nodded, knowing that if he was over-protective of her she would be angry. Rightly so too. She wasn't overly protective of him and respected him enough to let him do his job. He owed her the same courtesy. "The Sweeney think they're the bee's bloody knees. Just don't let them help themselves to half the team."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," she smiled. "Although…"

"Oh no. Who do you want?"

"Shaz."

"Bolls, I -"

"If they think this plan could work then I'm going to need someone assigned to me, just for a little while. Mona is slowing me down and I can't let it continue. She's so slow, she's compromising the investigation. It takes her a day to process one file... Gene, I need Shaz. Together, we can get through twenty to thirty files a day. We've done it before."

Gene sighed. Redeploying Shaz right now wouldn't help Fenchurch.

"Please?"

"Bolls, come on," he said, getting to his feet and stretching. "You know I'd give you Shaz in a heartbeat but this is not the week for it. She's needed here and," his voice raised slightly as she opened her mouth to speak, "_and_ it wouldn't be fair to her either. Everyone else would have adjusted to the new team by the time she got back. She needs be here when her new DCI arrives. She's put a lot of work into the Case and Procedures book – she should be here to see the benefits of it."

Defeated, Alex flumped onto the spare chair. "Do you think Shaz will try for detective?"

Gene pulled on his jacket. "Nope."

"But all the extra work and the -"

"Granger's got her head screwed on the right way which is quite surprising for an Essex girl. Nah - Viv told me that she's got her beady little eyes on his job. Skipper Granger."

Alex sat up in surprise. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Well, I dunno, do I? It's not like I sat down with her and talked about sodding career development. I couldn't give an arse what she decides to do. I'm only telling you what Viv told me."

She grinned at him; he could talk tough but she knew he was proud of Shaz's prep work. "Okay. But I'll be asking again for her in a fortnight, so don't think I've forgotten about it."

"You? Forget about something you want?" he teased. "Highly unbloodlylikely."

"You'll talk to Viv about it?"

"Yes, Alex," he heaved a world weary sigh. "I'll talk to Viv. Anyway, if Shaz was with you, you'd be less likely to go chasing after armed blaggers so I think I could part with her. Temporarily, of course."

"Hey! I can be… er…"

"Restrained?" he finished for her. "Calm? Sensible? Level-headed in the face of an imminent robbery?"

"Yeah. Yeah, all those things," she smiled at him.

"Exactly," he replied and peeking over her shoulder, he checked the coast was clear before he kissed her briefly. "Come on. Lunch."

She grinned and watched as he stuffed a packet of fags into his jacket pocket.

"Gene?"

"Yep?"

"Why don't the blinds in your office close fully?"

"I dunno. Stupid if you ask me. Leaving those side windows clear on both sides of the door. Means someone can always see in."

"What about the Super's office?"

"No windows there, Bolls," he said, his eyes twinkling at her. "Apart from a nice big one with a view of the bins out the back. Plus, there's a proper door with a reception desk in the outer office an' all."

"Wow. How interesting," she replied, twirling a curl around her finger. "A proper door, no overlooking windows and people can't walk in unannounced. Tsk, tsk. I'll have to call up to make sure you're getting enough air. An office like that could be dangerously lacking in oxygen."

"That'll be nice of you. You can blow in any time," he said, keeping his voice neutral.

"Blow in, huh?"

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, I believe the correct term for 'blow in' is 'suck'. So you could blow or suck if you like. Whichever you prefer."

She laughed. "You're filthy."

"Positively depraved," he grinned, holding the door open for her and following her out of CID.

* * *

"Do you still want all of these, Sir?" asked David Crane, looking at the huge stack of newspapers.

"Nope," replied Gene, his head buried in the cupboard. Exactly how many empty whisky bottles did he keep in here? He was certain he'd cleaned them all out when Scarman came to snoop around. Yeah... that was it. He simply must've forgotten to chuck this lot out.

Crane interrupted his thoughts once more and diverted his attention back to the newspapers. "What'll I do with them?"

Gene withdrew from the cupboard and shot Crane a withering look.

"Right. Right. I'll go and put them in the bin, shall I?" David didn't like getting those kind of looks. He glanced at his watch. Oh dear. By the time he had this lot cleared out, he'd be late for Jack's football match.

An hour later and Crane was still running up and down the stairs to the bins, this time with a load of old telephone directories. The Guv had been ruthless for his office clear out – everything was either essential or rubbish and they were packing up the last of it now. The entire team were in as he was distributing old files, case books, arrest journals and bits and pieces that he had no use for any more. When Crane returned to CID, from yet another bin trip, plus a stop with Viv, he heard giggles from Gene's office. Little boy giggles.

Shit.

Gene, Ray and Chris looked up from a box of files, mild exasperation evident on all three faces. The little Quattro came whizzing through the door of Gene's office and thumped into Crane's heel.

"Quattro coming through with blaggers to get to the station, Inspector. Time to be off," said Gene, deadpan. He could see the children peeking around from behind the door and had modified his language accordingly. But the message was clear.

"Sir! I'm sorry – I didn't know Sarah was here already. We'll be out of your way-"

"Awww." Crane's eldest son, Jack, pouted and looked regretfully at their newly emptied and very cool play area. "Dad... do we _have_ to?"

"Yes, Superintendent Hunt is very busy today, boys and we must be off to football."

"Your missus has gone for coffee with mi-" Gene coughed, "with my DI who should be here sorting through that pile of stuff I left for her as opposed to nattering in the canteen."

"Oh, please, Daddy? _Please_ can we stay?" begged Jack.

Crane shushed the wheedling. "We'll go and meet Mummy in the canteen. Come along. Tony! Leave that ink pad alone. Jack, put on your shoes. Here, I'll help y- don't even _think_ about it," he caught Tony's hand which had found a stapler and the little boy was eyeing up a large stack of charge sheets.

Stapler safely back on the table, ink and stamp out of reach, shoes where they should be, David had the boys out of everyone's way in double time. Ray was smiling to himself; the normally quiet DI had a spark about him when he needed it, right enough. Eyes at the back of his head too. He filed that away for future reference and decided he should stop pulling faces when he thought Crane couldn't see.

"Nice little lads, all the same," said Chris, once the boys were safely out of CID.

"Holy terrors," grumbled Gene. "Christopher, what the fuck are you doing? That's a load of carbon paper you're putting into that file, you pillock."

"Oh right. Sorry, Guv - Sir."

"Give it here," he replied with a sigh. "Oh... shit..."

"Sorry, Guv... Sir." Chris had handed it over, carbon side up and it was all over Gene's hands.

"Pick one, Chris, would you please?" With a swipe, Chris was batted behind the head with the sheaf of carbon and Gene hulked out of the office to wash his hands. Crane was standing at the end of the corridor, Alex and Sarah there too and the boys were looking regretfully back towards CID. Jack was scuffing his toes against the floor, a glum look on his face. Dodging into the gents, Gene quickly rinsed his hands and marched back to his office, surveying the remains of the children's game. Sod it. He didn't really want them anyway.

"Back in five," he mumbled at Chris and Ray as he brushed past them, a large padded envelope in his hands.

"Okay, Guv," replied Ray, wondering what he should do with a half completed arrest diary that should've been turned in Easter last year. Someone had stuck a furry Gnasher sticker to the front of it.

"Hey! You found it!" cried Chris, in delight. "Where?"

"On your desk, you div."

"I liked this diary. Forgot I put Gnasher on it," explained Chris, pronouncing the G in Gnasher.

"_G_-nasher? What the..."

Gene rolled his eyes and went out the corridor, glad to escape that particular conversation. Nobody was there.

"She's outside, Guv - on the steps." Viv passed by with a nod.

"Thanks, Skip," he replied and made for the main doors. Sure enough, the family Crane and Alex were there, the women _still_ yacking on. A small smile crept on to his face. God, he loved her.

"Superintendent Hunt," smiled Sarah as he appeared.

"Gene," he replied genially and shook her hand.

"We're just leaving," said Crane. "Sorry for keeping DI Drake awa-"

Gene waved off his apologies. "Always time for a cuppa, Crane, right? Anyway, here you go, Sir Jack," he handed the envelope to the boy. "Share them with your brother, mind."

The two boys peered inside to exclaims of delight and thanks.

"Thanks you!" squeaked the normally mute Tony.

"Whatever have you got there?" enquired Sarah as the two children were practically beside themselves with delight.

"Aww, so cool – loadsa cars!" exclaimed Jack. "Here Tony, the green Vanquish." Another squeak from the younger boy. Jack's face shone as his hand closed around the little Quattro. "Thank you heaps, Guv."

"Play nice, lads," replied Gene.

"Cheers, Sir. I appreciate it," said David, shaking Gene's hand and clapping his Super on the shoulder affectionately in a gesture he would normally not even contemplate, as Sarah loaded the boys into the car.

"Go on with you," replied Gene, trying to look unaffected. "Don't dally, Crane. You're late enough for footie as it is."

With a nod of thanks again, David hopped into the car and drove away, the boys waving manically at them from the back window. Alex waved frantically back; Gene raised his hand in farewell.

"That was nice of you," she said, linking her arm through his. "Parting with your little Dinky cars. I'm very impressed, Mr Hunt."

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Bloody Crane. This is a police station not a ruddy play school. It's not a place for children."

She kissed his cheek, loving the faux-grumpy. "You're the one who had the toys."

He harrumphed a reply.

"And those little boys are completely taken with you."

Another grunt. "Let's go in, Bolly Knickers. You've two boxes to sort out and I hope Gnasher and Gnipper have managed to sort out the finer points of pronunciation in my absence."

"Huh?"

"Believe me, you don't want to know." He turned at the top of the stairs and looked down the road just in time to see Crane's car turning the corner. "Bolls?"

"Hmm?"

"Does Crane have relatives in Manchester?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"I knew a Tony Crane way back. Just wondering if there's any connection."

"Ask him."

"Nah. Forget it." He let the doors swing shut behind him and followed her to CID.

.oOo.


	8. The Stag's Head

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Many thanks to Lucida Bright who knocked this into shape. Thanks also to Grainweevil for invaluable assistance. You'll just have to picture me grovelling in gratitude to both of them. So... blame them if you see any typos or mistakes. ;-)

* * *

**The Stag's Head**

The team spent the rest of their Saturday finalising things in CID. Around 5pm, DCI Andrew Capplan arrived, just for an informal chat with everyone and had a look around the offices. He and Gene would be spending the next two weeks working almost side-by-side as Gene handed over all his cases and showed Capplan the ropes. It would be a difficult time, for both of them. Capplan had to adjust to a new environment and Gene faced change. Lots and lots of change. He couldn't help but feel apprehensive about it.

A week later, he'd taken a few hours to work alone. He was stacking a filing cabinet in his new office when he paused. Something wasn't right but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Then he realised what it was - silence. For his entire working life, Gene had worked at the very heart of a bustling station and had become accustomed to the background noises of typewriters, telephones, criminals, shouts, laughter, teasing, doors banging; the life of a police station.

He looked around with a critical eye, now he was cocooned in a fancy office with new wool carpet and new paint. One which had a large desk and leather chair, a round meeting table complete with chairs, and any one of four secretaries at his beck and call in an outer office. And silence. He couldn't even hear the traffic outside. With a sinking feeling he realised how easy it would be for a Superintendent to become isolated and not have a clue what was going on. He slammed the filing cabinet shut knowing he had to get out of there. Crossing to his desk he picked up the phone and dialled. It rang a few times before she answered.

"Good afternoon. DI Drake speaking."

"Good afternoon. Superintendent Hunt speaking," he replied, mimicking her posh greeting. What was wrong with answering the phone with an irate growl? Always worked for him.

He heard her snort of laughter. "What do you want?" she asked, her smile evident, even over the phone.

"Oh, that's lovely, that is, Drake. What a thing to say to your superior officer. I could be ringing on important police business."

"You _could_ be but you're not. Is it lunchtime already?"

"Cheeky tart," he growled, discovered. "But now that you mention it, I was thinking that we could escape to a quiet little pub called the Stag's Head?"

She knew it well as it was exactly half way between Scotland Yard and Fenchurch. They had met there occasionally for lunch when they felt like some time away from everyone else.

"Damn. Gene, I can't today. I'm waiting for a delivery from the central stores and I have to be here to sign for it. I'm sorry, love."

He huffed in disappointment. "It was just a thought. Never min-"

"And it was a nice one. I would love to escape from here for an hour but... c'est la vie."

He smiled. "Back in Paris again, Drake?"

"Mais oui. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?"

"Am I up for a shag this evening? Absofuckinglutely. 'Scuse my French," he replied dryly.

Alex giggled, not having expected him to understand what she had said.

"You thought you had one up on the Gene Genie," he continued. "Nice try, love. And as we're on the theme, if you'd like to get yourself tarted up in a French maid's outfit for later, then-"

"It's not happening, Hunt," she interrupted him.

"True. Ruddy clothes only get in the way. Right, stop delaying me, Bolly. I haven't got all day to natter on the phone."

"But you rang m-"

"Back to work, you. And if you think you could possibly drag that gorgeous arse of yours away from the Yard for a while, meet me it the pub for 3pm. I'll be there anyway."

"If I can, I'll be there but it doesn't look likely." She sighed. "In case I don't see you, will you try to be home early?"

"I'll try my very best," he replied, already picturing it. Maybe she'd make it home before him and would open the front door when she heard the Quattro pull up as she usually did. He loved that; someone to welcome him home. "Bye, Bolls. Love you."

"Love you too. See you later."

"Yeah."

Neither one hung up the phone.

"You hang up," she said, smiling soppily at their typical lovers dilemma.

"Okay," he replied, followed by a click and the line went dead.

Alex stared at the receiver in her hand and then burst out laughing. There were some games he wasn't going to play, that much was evident.

* * *

At 3pm, Gene was ensconced in their favourite corner of the Stag's Head and rapidly demolished the large sandwich he had ordered. Now, he was looking forward to his cigarette, newspaper and pint and maybe, Alex would show up too even though it wasn't looking like it

"Gene?"

He looked up from his newspaper and saw an attractive blonde woman smiling at him. "Bloody _hell_… Jackie Queen. Everyone's favourite reporter."

"I knew it was you," she said, smiling at him. He gestured to the seat opposite him and she sat down. "How are you keeping?"

"Not so bad, thanks. You?"

"Same. I'm working for The Guardian now. Moved here over a year ago."

"Me too. Well, over two years ago now. Nearly three."

"I know."

They stared at each other for a beat and then she laughed. "Did I hear right? You're a Superintendent now?"

He inclined his head to show her that she was correct.

"Are they that hard up?"

"Thanks, Jackie," he said sarcastically. "Good to know you're the same harpy you always were."

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, not at all phased and ignoring his pint that was already on the table. He could handle two.

Gene didn't move.

"Oh, come on, Gene. Bygones and all that."

He relented and sighed loudly. Giving him a winning smile, she ordered a glass of red for herself and another pint for him.

"So what are you doing in this fine establishment?" he asked, somewhat glad to see her all the same.

"Would you believe me if I said I was looking for you?"

He snorted. "Probably. What do you want?" When he was done here he was going to rip Viv a new one for telling a reporter where he was. He should never have stopped for a chat with the desk sergeant on his way out. Fuck it.

"Why so narky?" she asked.

"Jackie," he sighed. "Spit it out. And just so you know, anything we say is strictly off the record."

"You're that wary of me?"

No response.

"Okay, fine," she relented and took a sip of her drink that had just arrived. "I've been covering these armed robberies for the paper. I heard that some hotshot DI in the Met was working on building a psychological profile of the robbers. I also heard that she was based in Fenchurch East where one Superintendent Gene Hunt was part of the team that was leading the investigation. I also heard that the DI had been transferred to Scotland Yard – cleared by, maybe even requested by, the Commissioner himself."

Gene looked unimpressed and leaning forward a bit closer to her, he repeated, "What do you want?" The tone in his voice was crystal clear: don't fuck me about.

"My informant told me that everything I need to know for my story can be found 'in Alex's court'."

* * *

He shrugged calmly even though his insides lurched. "What the fuck does that mean?" He lit up his ciggie and took a long drag, willing himself to play Mr Cool.

"I was hoping you would tell me."

"Jackie, I haven't the first clue."

"You're lying."

"Really?"

"I know you."

"'Course you do, love. And all because we had a thing way back, I suppose."

"A thing? It was an affair. And it was four years ago."

He glowered. "I know what it was and I know when it was. Still doesn't mean you know shit about me."

"How's your wife?"

He gave a short sardonic laugh and got to his feet, mashing his cigarette into the ashtray. "Goodbye. I won't see you around, Jackie."

"You owe me, Gene!"

He froze. "How'd you work that out, then?"

"I have no idea what happened with you but one minute we're together and then I wake up and you're gone. I never heard another word. You _owe_ me."

He sighed loudly and sat down again. "The most I owe you is an apology and I am sorry about the way things ended. I shouldn't have done that to you but I shouldn't have had the affair in the first place. If it makes you feel any better, you were the last because the missus walked out on me the day after I walked out on you. But that's in the past, Jackie. I've moved on. New city, new life. I don't owe you anything."

"I know this 'Alex's court' thing means something to you. And I will find out, Gene. One way or another. This is a big story and might just be enough to get me on permanent staff."

"Well, bully for you, love. Keep digging. If you find anything useful, you know where I am." This was a dangerous tactic but if he told her to stay out of it, she'd be convinced that she was on to something.

"Gene, please," she said, putting a hand over his. "Help me out here."

"Are you for real?" he exclaimed, snatching his hand away. "Even if I had anything useful to say, I'd hardly tell a reporter, would I? You claim to know me but you seem to forget that I don't want my name in the sodding paper."

She sighed and sat back, taking another sip. "Okay. Look… this is not how I imagined this conversation would go. I know the DI working on this case is called Alexandra Drake. I can't be far off if I assume that 'Alex's court' has something to do with her. Strictly off the record; are you running some sort of ad hoc investigation where the police are sorting these criminals out the only way we all know justice will be served?"

He gave another bark of laughter. "Fucking hell, Jackie. You've been watching too much of _The Sweeney_. On the record, the answer to your question is no. At present, we are conducting an investigation into a series of armed robberies that may or may not be connected. And you can quote me on that if you want to."

Her shoulders sagged slightly. She had been so sure she had it right. "So, 'Alex's court' really means nothing to you?"

"Correct. And that's off the record."

"You know I'm not going to print every word you say," she replied, getting annoyed.

"I don't actually. Reporters have burnt me in the past. Learned my lesson well." He shot her a look.

She got the message; after all, she had been the one who set him on fire. "So what about Alexandra Drake then? No connection to 'Alex's court'?"

"The name is the same as that of a well respected DI in the Met. And I'm sure, if you looked, there'd be other Alexs on the Met's payroll too."

"There are four but Alex Drake is the only one associated with these robberies."

He still didn't so much as blink and stood up, looking as if he couldn't care less about what she had to say. "Great. Oh, dearie me, look at the time. I've got to go."

She reached for his arm. "Gene… I am sorry. About DI Tyler."

His hard gaze softened for a moment. "That was a good article you wrote about him. Nice tribute. Meant a lot to his missus. And to me. I appreciated that."

"He was a good man and a brave one."

"He was. He was he very best." Gene cleared his throat. "Bye."

"Bye, Gene. Take care of yourself."

"Yeah. You too." And then he was gone.

Jackie watched him leave; there was something different about him. He wasn't the same Gene Hunt she knew but she couldn't put her finger on what was different. She shrugged and ordered a sandwich. She'd see him again, she was quite certain of that. He was playing it cool but she knew her information was bothering him. He'd be back. When he wanted something, Gene always came back, in the end.

* * *

"Sergeant?" Gene banged on the bell on the desk as he passed by.

"Sir?" Viv peered out from the inner office.

"Was someone in here looking for me earlier?"

"Yes, Sir. Scottish woman. I sent her to-"

"Great. That's just fucking _great_. The next time some tart flashes her tits at you and asks about my whereabouts, you don't say a word. Got it, Sergeant?"

Viv took a step back. "Got it, Sir. I-"

"Fuck's sake! Has _anyone_ around here got half a friggin' brain?" snapped Gene and stormed off to the stairs, slamming through the double doors.

Ray peered around the corner. "Bloody 'ell, Viv. What did you do?"

"A Scottish woman came in her looking for the Gu- for the Super, she said she was a personal friend. I sent her to up to the fifth floor yet somehow, he thinks I-"

"What was her name?" Ray interrupted, all interested.

"Something, er… Janice, Jackie...?" Viv fumbled through the drawer. "Wait a sec. She gave me her business card. I put it in here somewhere..."

"Jackie…" Ray pondered the name for a moment. "You sure it was Jackie?"

"Jackie, yes. Here you go." He handed the card to Ray.

"Fuck me! Jackie Queen."

"Exactly. You know her?"

"Flamin' Nora!" Ray's eyes couldn't get any bigger and he grabbed Chris as he passed by. "Chris, you're not going to believe it. Jackie Queen was 'ere!"

"I know! She gone yet?" Chris looked around, panic spreading across his face. Jackie saved her best sarcasm for Chris.

"Yes - ages ago. She was looking for the Guv."

Chris looked puzzled. "Capplan?"

"_No_!" Ray exclaimed in exasperation. "Our Guv. The Super. Jesus, I'll never get used to it."

"Oh! No, that's fine. I told her 'e went to the Stag's Head. Heard 'im saying so earlier."

"_You_ told her?" asked Viv, everything suddenly becoming clear.

Chris froze. "Should I not have done?"

Ray's rolled his eyes and gave him an incredulous stare. "No, you twonk! Don't you remember?"

"'Bout wot?"

"About Queen. And the Guv. A few years back."

"He didn't!" exclaimed Viv, eager to hear some gossip about the enigmatic Hunt.

"He bloody did," relied Ray, eyebrows waggling. "For a good few weeks, an' all."

"Oh _shit_," moaned Chris. "She just made me tell her. I don't like that woman."

"Oh, don't worry," said Viv, waving his hand. "I'll carry the can for you. The last thing you need is to give the Superintendent yet another reason to string you up."

"Thanks, Viv. I owe ye one," said Chris glumly, looking at his runners. Bugger. Why couldn't he think before he spoke?

"Looks like Viv's drinks are on you, mate. For at least a week," grinned Ray.

"Two weeks," added Viv, looking smug.

Chris was about to protest but then he thought about what would happen if the truth were known. He'd have Gene Hunt's bootprint permanently on his arse. "Deal."

Ray coughed loudly.

"Piss off!" replied Chris.

"My silence has a price, DC Skelton."

"Stingy bastard," murmured Chris. "Drinks on me tonight, then. And four packets of fags. Take it or leave it."

"Make it six packets and we're done."

"Fine. Six."

"Shake," said Ray, his meaty paw grabbing Chris's hand and shaking hard. "Thanks, mate."

Chris extracted his hand from Ray's grasp. "Yeah. No problem." And with that he shuffled back to CID, not for the first time wishing he could keep his mouth shut. Ray and Viv's laughter rang in his ears.

* * *

Viv certainly made a good deal for himself, as Gene had no intention of doing anything to him. Yet. It all depended on how tricky it was going to be to shake Jackie loose. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he had seen the last of her. Meeting her today made him feel most uncomfortable. It wasn't that he had anything against Jackie it was just… what she stood for. Infidelity. He had been faithful to Teresa for almost two years before Jackie happened; Sam could do a guilt trip far better than his wife ever could. They had a punch up over it once.

"You're married, Gene. _Married_. Doesn't that mean anything to you any more?" Sam shoved him into a filing cabinet.

Gene shoved back, sending Sam into the corner of his desk. "Don't you lecture me about marriage, Sammy Boy. You've only been married for eight months. Anyway, I was only looking -"

"You never just _look_. That's your whole bloody problem. _Think_ for once in your life. Think about what you're doing to her and show some respect for the woman who's looked after you all these years. Fuck's sake, do the decent thing and either divorce her or stop playing around. It's pathetic!"

Sam's parting wallop on his shoulder had hurt for days. However, it didn't hurt enough to stop him when he met up with Jackie and they went for a few drinks. One thing led to another and before he knew it, he was back sneaking around and it had been fun. Exhilarating even. This time not only had he Teresa to avoid but he had Sam too. Neither were fooled for an instant. Sam shook his head in disappointment and Teresa? Well, Teresa shook Gene with as much force as she was capable of. It was the last straw. She threw him out of the house and he spent a week on Sam and Annie's new sofa. The edge of Teresa's self-righteous anger was dulled somewhat when he found out she had been having an affair for a year.

Gene gulped his whisky. What a fucking mess he had made of his life. Those wasted, bitter, lonely years. For both of them. If they had parted sooner, Teresa might have met someone who could have given her the family she wanted. And now, here was Jackie again, still looking stunning and she had the same sweet smile. Perhaps she really had meant what she said. Bygones could be bygones and she might be a useful contact. Draining his glass, he smacked the whisky tumbler down on his desk and grabbed his keys.

* * *

"Well, that was a lovely surprise but are you going to tell me what brought about this little… event?"

"Nothing little about it, love," he sighed contentedly, putting an arm around her.

"Gene, you jumped on me as soon as I walked in the door."

"No, I didn't. I waited until you passed by so I could stare at your arse for a moment. Then I jumped on you." He kissed her forehead.

She kissed him softly in return and whispered in his ear. "I missed you today."

"Missed you, an' all, Bolls. Wished you could've made it to the pub. As you didn't, wait until I tell you what I heard." He filled her in on everything, leaving out none of the details, no matter how uncomfortable the details made him feel.

She propped herself up on an elbow, brow furrowed in annoyance. "Your ex-mistress shows up and tells you that she has a contact who seems to know something about me and these armed robberies and you wait until _now_ to tell me about it?"

He blinked, puzzled at her angry tone. "What did I do wrong?"

"This happened at lunchtime! Couldn't you have phoned me or -"

He sat up straight. "Oi! Lunchtime, Alex! My lunchtime. It was about…" he squinted at the bedside clock, "two hours ago, remember? I went back to work, swallowed a glass of whisky to calm me down and came straight back here to talk to you. Add on half an hour because, as per usual, you took your own sweet time in coming home, another half -"

She stopped his explanation with a soft kiss. "Sorry, love. You're right. And a too-short half-hour for what we just did was time well spent in my book. I'm sorry."

"Humph…"

"Forgive me?" She kissed him again.

"I'll think about it."

"Please?" Another kiss, longer this time.

Gene kissed her back, almost desperately. "You're coming back to Fenchurch tomorrow and we're going to figure out what 'Alex's court' means."

"I was going to go through the files in the Yard and see if I could come up with a match -"

"No reason why both can't be done. Let the collators in the Yard go through the files. You come in to Fenchurch and we spend the day with the team trying to figure it out."

"Do you think Jackie told you everything?"

"No. She always was a crafty cow."

"She might be a useful contact to have."

"No." The more he thought about meeting Jackie regularly the worse it sounded. If it was deemed necessary to have her as a contact, Capplan could do it.

She knew him well enough not to push the issue right now. Tomorrow he might have a different view on the matter. It was all a bit too close for comfort for him at the moment. She kissed his shoulder and snuggled in next to him. "Okay. Forget about it for now."

He nodded and wrapped both arms tightly around her. She was taking this entire thing well. Too well. He hoped it wouldn't come back to bite her after she'd had time to think it over. He wasn't that man any more and he hoped she knew that.

His stomach sank.

He hoped _he_ knew that. After all, why else did he rush to get home and whisk Alex to bed? He did it to prove to himself that he didn't want another woman. And he didn't - Alex was everything he had ever wanted, and more. So why couldn't he trust himself? Why did he want Capplan to meet Jackie? Because he was afraid to himself? And why the fuck did he feel that happiness was a bad thing?

Alex stirred in his arms. "What?"

"Nothing, Bolly."

Her hand stroked light patterns on his shoulder. "Doesn't seem like nothing to me. You were miles away."

"Hmm."

"Hmmm?"

_Everyone else, me included, thinks I'm a cheating bastard. Tell me I'm not. I don't want to be. I love you._ But he couldn't tell her that.

She propped herself up on an elbow and turned his face towards her, her finger tracing over his lips. "Meeting her can't have been easy. A whopping great reminder of your old life. Of how you used to be."

He gave a rueful snort. How did she do it? "Get out of my head, Bollykecks. All sorts of things in there you shouldn't see."

"Nothing that would scare me."

He shifted uncomfortably. "You'd be surprised, love," he said quietly and rolled away from her to sit at the edge of the bed. "You'd be surprised at the man I can be." He felt her moving until she was sitting beside him and her hand slipped into his. He looked down at her and saw a smile.

"No, Gene. I think _you'd_ be surprised at the man you can be."

"Alex..."

"Give yourself a break once in a while, would you? Starting a new life isn't easy - look at me. I'd really be a complete fruitcake if it wasn't for you. All this change... all these new things... you don't expect everything to click into place overnight, do you?"

He shrugged. "I don't want anyone else but you, Alex. Hope you know that."

"Of course I know that," she said gently. "Just... give yourself time to adjust. And remember I'm adjusting too. We'll be okay."

He squeezed her hand. "Always knew your clever clogs bullshit would be useful someday."

"I would be offended only I know you're trying to be nice," she smiled and tickled his palm.

"Trying? I _am_ being nice! Fuck's sake..." That got a laugh out of her and he wrestled her back onto the bed. "I'm being very, _very_ nice."

She gasped. "So you are - OH!"

"Told you."

* * *

The following day, everyone was assembled in the CID offices where they went through all the information they had so far and tried to figure out what 'Alex's court' could mean.

"Did Ms Queen give you any further information, Sir?" asked Crane, scribbling in his notebook.

"No, nothing else," sighed Gene, tired of all the chatter.

"I think she might know more than she said," interjected Capplan. "You should meet with her again, Sir. Chat her up a little. See what she'll tell you if she thinks that you-"

He stopped because the look Gene was giving him would make Hell freeze over. "I don't think so, DCI Capplan. In fact, if anyone is going to 'chat her up' as you so eloquently put it, it'll be you."

"Don't think my wife would like that, Sir," said Capplan, uncomfortable under Gene's intense scrutiny.

"Well, as she doesn't work for me, she doesn't get a say in the matter, okay?" snapped Gene. "What else have we got?"

"Err… nothing much Gu-Sir," said Chris, flipping back through his notebook. "Although something did cross my mind. Remember that dodgy second hand car dealer you sent me to? For the Gil Hollis case last year."

"The ones over in East London?"

"East 17, yeah. Near Leyton-"

"Layton?" Alex started, her glasses slipping off her head. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Leyton, Boss," said Chris calmly. "Leyton with an E. Over in Waltham Forest."

"Oh, right… er… sorry," she replied, relaxing a bit.

"What about it?" asked Gene, his eyes flicking over Alex. She had gone pale; obviously any mention of that Layton bastard still upset her.

"That dodgy dealership was on Alexandra Road. What if 'Alex's court' isn't anything to do with the Boss at all? What if it's a place like Alexandra Court or something?"

"Fucking hell, Chris," breathed Gene. "That might… you could be right."

Ray was rummaging around in his desk drawer and withdrew a battered London A-Z. He quickly flipped through the index. "Quite a few Alexandra Roads in here," he said, his finger scanning down the list. "No Alex's Courts, Alex Courts or Alexandra Courts though."

"How many Alexandra Roads are we talking about?" asked Capplan.

Ray counted them. "Five, Guv."

Capplan's eyes caught Gene's and they both shrugged. "It'd be pointless, Andy. We need to know what we're looking for otherwise it'd be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Meet with Jackie. See if she'll tell you anything else."

Capplan nodded, not thrilled but had enough sense not to let it show. "Ray, how old is that A-Z?"

"Er… ten years, Guv," replied Ray, looking at the publishing information inside the front cover.

"Right, well, I don't reckon it'll be of much use anyway, even if we got a more up-to-date one. We need something better so go and get Viv to help. The man's a walking A-Z."

Ray nodded and left the office in search of Viv. Gene got to his feet too. "Okay, I think we're done here. Bolly, you should head back to the Yard and see what the collators have found in the files."

"Will do, Sir," she replied, pulling on her jacket.

Everyone said their goodbyes and Gene told Capplan that he wanted to see him in fifteen minutes. He left the office with Alex and walked her out to the front of the station.

"I've been thinking, Bolls. Take Granger to help you through the files down in the Yard from tomorrow. I'll clear it with Capplan and Viv; plus it'll help us all if we can eliminate this 'Alex's court' shit from our enquiries. Shaz will help you do this in good time. Makes sense."

"You sure?"

"Course I'm bloody sure," he growled but she could see the concern in his eyes. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"Don't worry, Gene, and don't jump to the conclusion that this is something to do with me."

"Do you want to take the Quattro?" he asked, squeezing her hand back.

"No. No, it's fine, thanks," she smiled at him. "I'll get the Tube."

"Dirty, smelly place," he grumbled. "You'd choose that above my car?"

"I'd choose the Tube any day above London traffic," she grinned. "Seven stops from here and six stops from home. Perfect."

"Have it your way, Bolls," he sighed dramatically, his hand securely closing over his keys in his pocket. Safe again.

She laughed. "You don't fool me, Gene Hunt. Someday I may just take you up on your offer or, you know, use my own key once in a while."

Gene smiled and patted his pocket. "Who says I'll offer again? Righto, Bolly. Vamoose. I'll see you later."

"About seven?"

"Seven" he agreed and paused, "make that six." He leaned down to give her a quick kiss.

She kissed him back and whispered her goodbyes against his lips.

Two people hurried by them. It was Ray and Viv, on their way to meet a friend of Viv's who worked in the main computer division. After all, where better to look for every single address _and_ see who lived there? If they wanted answers quickly, the best way would be to go informally and Viv had plenty of pals in the right places with the right sort of access.

Ray hurried down the steps, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead but Viv nodded to them both with a smile. "Sir. Bye, Boss."

"See ya, Viv," grinned Alex and lightly ran down the rest of the steps, giving Gene a last smile over her shoulder. He gave her a half wave and then sent a death glare at Viv who was still grinning at him from across the road. Ray was off up near the traffic lights and wouldn't turn around if his life depended on it.

Viv wasn't phased by Gene's glower but he pretended to be. He knew he was skating on thin ice with the Super at the moment and it'd be best not to provoke the man. So, he schooled his features into a sombre expression and scuttled after Ray, inwardly chuckling all the way down the road.

* * *

"Boss? I've brought you the last of the files," chirped Shaz, plonking a large box down beside Alex's desk.

She smiled. "Thanks, Shaz. Why don't you head off now? I'm sure Chris is waiting for you at this stage."

"He's right outside, Boss," replied Shaz with one of her sweet smiles. "See you tomorrow morning? And then on Friday we could-"

Alex glanced up. "Aren't you supposed to go back to Fenchurch on Friday?" Shaz had been with her for over a week and it had been most productive. She would be sorry to see her go.

"Well..."

"Shaz, I can't authorise you to stay here. Gene allowed you to come here for ten days and ten days only."

"I hate to leave a job half finished, Boss. Please, could you ask him for if I could stay until Friday?"

Alex smiled thinly. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, mind."

"Thanks, Boss," chirped Shaz, knowing that if Alex asked, it would be more than likely that she'd be allowed to stay. "See you in the morning, then?"

"Bright and early." Alex's smile vanished when Shaz left their small office. She pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes. "Not again. Please, _please_… not again…"

**.o0o.**


	9. Back to the Park

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: I hardly know where to begine with the thanks for this. Firstly, to Lucida Bright who took a badly needed blue pencil to this and whittled through it _twice_. Secondly, thanks also to Grainweevil and Louella for invaluable advice. I know - some people really do need that much help. And last but not least, thanks to all of you, the readers and reviewers. I hope you enjoy this. I know it doesn't look like it but we're getting there. All will become clear. Eventually. ;-)

* * *

**Back to the Park**

"Not again. Please, _please_, not again."

She wasn't imagining it. A migraine was brewing and the accompanying nausea was starting to make itself known. _Dammit_. She remembered the three hours yesterday morning she'd spent reading through the various charge sheet records on computer print out in the basement. Her glasses were up in her office and she was too engrossed in her work to be bothered with them. Not only that, but it had been cold down there, and the chill hadn't really left her since. Gene had been home late and when he slid into bed beside her, she was too exhausted to do anything other than wrap an arm around him and snuggle in close, his body heating hers.

Sighing loudly, she realised that she needed to go home before this got any worse. The tea Shaz had made her about half an hour ago was sitting untouched on her desk and she picked the mug up and got to her feet. It crashed to the floor as the white-hot pain stabbed behind her eyes, blinding her. She gasped and panicked, as the intense pain was much worse than it had been before and it caught her unawares. She could feel her heart racing as she clutched her head. She wasn't going to make it to the loo, she knew it. Her vision was going dark around the edges, there was a high-pitched ringing in her head and she desperately made a grab for the bin. She threw up into it and then everything went black.

* * *

"Alex?"

"Can you hear me?"

"Open your eyes, Alex."

She flinched as a bright light made her blink.

"That's it. You're okay now. Come on. Open your eyes."

A warm hand slipped under her neck and she felt herself moved to a seating position. Blearily, she opened her eyes and a kindly face looked down at her.

She didn't recognise the person and snapped her eyes shut again. _Oh God. Oh Gene... Gene, where are you?_ She felt her heart pounding in fear. Where was she? When was she... She had left him. _Oh God. Oh my God. _

"Alex, it's okay," came the voice again as she felt fingers on her wrist, taking her pulse. "Just take it easy and open your eyes. Relax and take deep breaths. It'll help with the pain."

She wouldn't open her eyes and wouldn't, couldn't, acknowledge the voice. Was she waking up, back in her own time? Even though the pain and confusion were clouding her mind and her senses, there was one sure thing; Gene wasn't there with her and that thought simply terrified her.

A small, soft hand slipped into hers and Alex could hardly breath. Mol-

"Boss? It's me."

"Shaz?" Alex gasped. Was it Shaz? In her shock, her eyes opened again and she could see...

Shaz.

"There now," came the man's voice again. "If you'll just give your hand to WPC Granger, we'll have you on your feet. Careful now, Granger. Mind that puddle of tea and the broken mug. Help me lift her up… that's it…"

"What… what happened to me?" she muttered, completely unfocused.

"Oh, Boss," came Shaz's voice, full of tears. "You gave me such a fright."

"Where... who...?" Alex pressed a hand to her head.

"Come on, let's get you down to the sick bay and we can have a proper look at you. Time enough for questions later," said the kindly man. Alex recognised him now. One of the police surgeons in the Yard, Dr Bannow.

Between them, they had Alex in the sick bay in a few minutes. She didn't object to a burly PC Goggins who was drafted in to carry her, in fact, she was glad he did. She was so dizzy and in such pain that if she had a choice, she would have stayed curled up on the floor. Once she was placed on the narrow examination couch, Dr Bannow realised the lights were bothering her, so he had them all switched off except for a small desk light on in the corner of the room. Shaz went to call Gene while the doctor examined Alex. She had been too ill to say anything else and simply had pressed Shaz's hand and muttered his name to her. Shaz knew what she meant. The doctor held a cool glass of water to her lips and gave her a tablet.

"Take this now and I hope you'll be able to keep it down," he said, keeping his voice low. "I just want you to rest for a bit and then I'll come back. I've put a bowl right here beside you in case you need it." He placed a blanket over her and with a little pat on her shoulder, he pulled the cubicle curtains closed.

"Is she okay, Doctor?" asked Shaz, pale with fright.

"She'll be fine, WPC Granger. Acute migraine. Terribly painful, sudden onset but hopefully, short-lived. I suspect she may also have given herself a bit of a knock when she fell which only made things worse. She's not concussed but… oh, it's nothing. She'll be fine in a day or so, I should think."

Shaz heaved a grateful sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. She looked so awful on the floor, the poor thing."

"She's lucky you forgot your umbrella," replied the Doctor. "Otherwise, who knows how long she would've been there before she was found."

They were interrupted by Chris, who had been dispatched to contact Gene. "The Guv is on his way over," he said, sitting down beside Shaz, anxious to hear what was going on.

He and Shaz were supposed to go to the cinema but instead, Shaz had returned to the office to get her brolly, only to rush back a few minutes later in a breathless panic, shrieking at him to call the Superintendent because the Boss was sick, before she disappeared again.

Shaz didn't even bother to correct him. Gene Hunt would always be the Guv, even when he wasn't. "The Guv will be so worried about her," she sighed, leaning against him as she filled him in on what had happened

Eventually, Chris nodded thoughtfully. "Can't quite believe it."

"What?"

"The Guv. He went dead quiet when I told him. I mean, you were right, weren't you? The Guv and the Boss… they really are… you know… serious."

"They really are. Very serious," she replied.

They sat and talked with Dr Bannow until Gene arrived, looking harried and grey. He acknowledged Shaz and Chris with a curt nod.

"Is she through here?" he asked, his hand on the door to the sick bay.

"Yes, but be quiet when you go in. She may be asleep and if she is, that'll be the best thing for her," replied the Doctor, having enough sense to know not to argue. Gene vanished through the door.

"So… that's the big, bad Superintendent Hunt?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"He's not," said Shaz, feeling defensive. "He's lovely."

Chris shot her an incredulous look. "_Lovely_? The Guv?"

"Not with us, silly," replied Shaz. "With DI Drake. I've seen them here, together. They're happy."

"Well, good for them," smiled the doctor before moving to the desk to check his case notes.

"It's weird," said Chris pensively.

"What's weird?"

"This is the Guv we're talking about." Chris gave a small laugh.

"So?"

"Come on, Shazza. Can you imagine what they're like together? Christ, it must do the neighbours' heads in. The arguing and the fighting... bloody 'ell. I'm exhausted even thinking about it."

Shaz raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not that thick, Chris, and I don't know why you pretend to be. Ray's not here, you know. So relax."

Chris shifted uncomfortably. "You don't know the Guv the way I do, Shaz. I've worked with 'im for ten years, remember? Seen what 'e can do. He's a right nasty, vicious bastard when 'e wants to be – seriously. You wouldn't ever want to cross 'im. Christ, you've seen him in action with those ska boys – 'e chucked two blokes across a room and threatened to use a stapler on a man's head. Also, his missus kicked 'im out 'cause of all the birds. Drake's not going to change that about 'im."

"You really think so little of him?" Shaz was hurt for them as she had seen Gene and Alex together; seen how he behaved with her and seen Alex's complete trust and love for him. There was no way a smart woman like Alex would spend the time of day with the man Chris described, never mind live with him.

Chris shrugged. "He's a right tough bastard. Makes him a bloody good copper but a rotten husband. I've seen it, Shaz. He can snap," Chris clicked his fingers. "Just like that, with no warning."

"Well, I think you're wrong; the man you described is gone. He's happy now. Really - probably for the first time is his whole life, I reckon. Doesn't make him any less of a copper but it makes him more of a man. Actually, do you remember a bet about them that I had with you and Ray?"

Chris suddenly found the sole of his left runner fascinating. "No. Don't remember nothin'," he mumbled, picking at the Nike logo.

Shaz smiled.

* * *

Gene moved over to Alex's covered form on the narrow examination table. She looked thin and miserable and his heart lurched at the sight. Carefully, he picked up one of her ice-cold hands.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Gene…"

"'Sup, Bollykecks?" he asked, softly brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "I hear you're not match fit, huh?"

She couldn't even muster a smile and looked so pitifully ill that he just wanted to gather her up, there and then, and bring her home to their bed. Her relief at seeing him there, at feeling his hand around hers, caused tears to spill from her eyes. She wanted to hold him tightly, wanted to kiss him but she couldn't even lift her head up.

"Shush, love," he said, not understanding the reason for her distress and wiping the tears away with his thumb. "You'll be okay soon. We'll see you right."

"Gene... so glad you're here," she choked out. "I was so scared..."

"I know, love," he replied, his fingers delicately sweeping her hair off her forehead, exposing the bruise where her head had connected with the side of the desk. "You scared us all. Are you trying to break that hard head of yours in more ways than one?"

The Doctor was hovering near the door and Gene motioned him over.

"How do you feel now, Alex?" asked the doctor.

"Cold. Sick," she muttered, holding Gene's hand tighter. "Head very sore."

The Doctor's eyes flicked from her face to Gene's concerned one and back again. "Alex," he began, hesitating a little, "could we talk in private for a moment?"

"Gene is my partner," she whispered. "It's okay."

The doctor nodded. "Okay. Well... could you be pregnant?"

Gene's head snapped up. _Pregnant_?

Alex tried to focus. "No. I'm on the pill," she muttered and then swallowed. She was going to be sick again.

"Can you tell me when you last had your period?"

She tried to think but the nausea and pain was getting to her and she couldn't remember. "No," she gasped out, willing herself not to throw up

"Hmmm. Well, we all know the pill is very effective but it's not a complete guarantee against pregnancy. Do you use any additional forms of contraception?"

Gene hated this. He didn't know this doctor from Adam and here he was, questioning them on contraception? But seeing that Alex really was too ill to answer, he knew he had to step up. "No. Just the pill. Now, is there anything more you can do for her, Doctor?"

The doctor gave that thoughtful 'possible diagnosis' look they all had. Gene resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well, I'd like to give Alex stronger tablets, but I'm reluctant to do so as I can't establish if she may be pregnant. Alex, you're too ill for any examination now but I think you should go to your own doctor as soon as you are able. Tomorrow morning, if possible. Okay, I'll leave you two alone as I'm needed down in the cells. Stay here as long as you like but you should take her home when she's able. Get some proper rest," he finished kindly, once more checking that Alex was as comfortable as he could make her.

"Thanks for looking after her," said Gene gruffly. After all, he did try to help Alex, even if he was a pushy, nosy bastard.

"You're more than welcome," he replied. "Alex, if you can't get an appointment to see your GP or gynaecologist in the morning, give me a call and I'll chase someone up for you. You're to take the rest of the week off and I'll give you a sick note. Also, if it is possible, Mr Hunt, you should stay with her tomorrow. Just in case the headache returns. If it does, it may be sudden onset, like today. She should be fine but she needs rest and time away from here will help her."

Gene shook the doctor's hand with a grateful nod of thanks and Alex winced, wishing the doctor didn't have to roar every word at the top of his voice.

Once they were alone, Gene carefully slipped his hand back over hers, which was resting on her stomach. "A baby…" He couldn't keep the uncertain joy out of his voice.

"It's not something we'd planned on yet," she whispered.

"No and we probably shouldn't count any chickens either, huh?"

She closed her eyes, the pain and nausea sapping her strength. "I want to go home, Gene. Want you with me."

He let her hand go and gently brushed her cheek with a finger. "You've got me, love. And home we shall go."

Shaz got Alex's things from the office and went to put them in the car. Gene bundled Alex up in his coat and carried her down to the waiting Quattro which Chris had brought around to the side entrance. Once she was in the back seat, she could lie down, and Gene drove carefully, managing the short journey without jostling her too much.

When they reached home, he helped her get undressed and into bed. He tucked her up under the duvet and, holding her to him, he lay on top of the covers until she was warm and fast asleep. She hadn't uttered one word since arriving home and even though he knew she was ill, her silence was playing on his mind. He made his way into the sitting room and twisted open a new bottle of Scotland's finest, pouring himself a generous triple measure, before flopping on to the sofa and staring at the empty fireplace.

His ex-wife had always shooed him out of the house whenever she had "women's problems" which covered a vast multitude of ailments. She had never told him exactly what was wrong and she never seemed to need him around. After a while, the message was clear; she didn't want him around either. But Alex, so far, had proven to be the opposite. If she wasn't feeling the best, even feeling a bit depressed, she always told him, straight out. She didn't mind if he stayed around the house, maybe even they'd sit and watch some telly, her feet in his lap. They'd talk quietly; making plans for their future, sometimes discussing getting married, having children, giving themselves time to adjust, think and talk about important things. Sometimes she spoke about Molly; that heartache was still raw. Would having a baby now, and unexpectedly too, help her to heal or would it make it worse? How would he know what she was thinking if she didn't say a word? He didn't know how to deal with a silent Alex. Since they'd been together, she'd always been honest and forthright with him and she hadn't changed since they'd started living together either.

Despite her initial plan of a trial run of living together, she had never returned to Luigi's flat to stay. Gradually, she had relocated all her belongings until even she had to admit that keeping the flat was pointless. She had no intention of returning and home was now in Little Venice. Luigi had been sad to see his tenant go but he knew where she had ended up, and that made his old romantic heart sing with happiness.

So, there never was an official moving out day or an official moving in one. It had just happened and it was the simple act of handing Luigi his keys back that marked the start of their new lives. It was still a learning process but they found that they were quicker to learn this new chapter than any other. Perhaps it had been the bombings on 20th July that had crystallised their feelings for each other. Life was far too short, and far too precious, to spend it being miserable, scared and always trembling on the cusp of "what if". There were some things that you had to go for and hope for the best. So, they did and did it wholeheartedly. Just as she had asked, they had arranged to see a solicitor and had everything drawn up properly. Alex now paid for the house and Gene's salary supported both of them.

He poured another large glass and swallowed it almost in one go. Now, maybe, his salary would have to support someone else too. A baby. Alex could be pregnant. The thought both delighted him and scared him shitless as he faced the reality of it. A baby wasn't a plan anymore; it was happening right now. Could he be a father again? Could he go through another pregnancy, another birth and all the excitement only to have it cruelly ripped away? _Please, let them be spared that_. The thought that they could both face the death of another child made his stomach feel like it was dropping through the floor. He knew that if the same tragedy happened a second time he could never recover from it.

With a pang, he thought about her, fast asleep in their bed but not peacefully and with a grey, sick pallor. He didn't have a choice. He would have to recover from it. What was he going to do if the worst happened? Freeze Alex out too? Take his gun and shoot himself? Leave her on her own to cope with everything? Never. His eyes rested on his old jumper that Alex wore around the house sometimes. He remembered her wearing it for the first time many months ago, the night the egg exploded and scared the shit out of them both. He reached over the back of the couch and gathered it up, pressing his face into it and breathing in her perfume.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. The Gene Genie didn't moan about his lot and cry into fucking jumpers like a big Jessie. He put up and shut up. He got to his feet, looked sourly at the now half-empty whisky bottle and lit a fag, his heart in a heap.

* * *

Alex slept like a log all night and was unaware that Gene hadn't come to bed until the small hours of the morning. So, when she eventually woke, it was half eleven and she was more than surprised to find him asleep beside her. She sniffed – whisky, and quite a lot, by the look of him. Fags too.

Stretching gingerly, she was relived to find that the nausea had gone and the headache had eased. She sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed. She still felt a bit dizzy, so she stayed where she was, breathing slowly as she tried to massage out the lingering pain at the back of her head and neck.

Gene turned over in his sleep, his arm coming to rest where she should have been. Gently, she covered his hand with hers and bit her lip thoughtfully. He'd always said that he would've liked more children. And from what she could remember about last night, he had seemed pleased that she might be pregnant. But what if he wasn't? What if a baby, on top of everything else that was new in his life, was one step too far? She already knew he hated change and hated not being able to control things. Yet everything that was happening around him was beyond his control. And when Gene felt things were completely out of control he had, so far, always reverted to type. Vast quantities of booze, or fags, or a vile mood. Sometimes all three together.

Granted, he hadn't done that for months but this might just be the tipping point and she couldn't cope with that right now. The thoughts of having that Gene around her, the Gene he was at Christmas when they couldn't stand to be in the same house as each other… surely not. He wouldn't let himself become that man again, would he? She stood up slowly and went to the bathroom thinking that a shower might help to clear her mind. She ran a hand over her belly – if she was pregnant then she needed to know that they both wanted it. She would have to ask him and pray that he gave her an honest answer.

It was Alex rummaging about and the sound of the shower that eventually woke him. He waited for her to come back from the bathroom but the shower kept going. And going. Suddenly, he remembered and he leapt out of bed, heart pounding. Had she fallen? Was she sick? Was something wrong?

She was neither of those things and he smiled when he saw her. She was facing him and was leaning back in the shower, letting the steaming water cascade over her. She stretched her arms up over her head, tipping her head back further and stretching out her neck. She was thoroughly enjoying herself and he was thoroughly enjoying the view. He stayed quiet so he wouldn't disturb her.

"Standing there in the shadows is kind of pervy, Gene," she said eventually, a small smile on her lips.

Minx. She knew he'd been watching and had been giving him a free show. "You're the one standing there, starkers, with no shame," he half-heartedly protested.

"I'm allowed to be starkers in the shower," she replied as she shut the water off and grinned at him.

He pulled a towel off the rail and wrapped it around her as she came towards him. "Have you any idea what you do me?" he growled and kissed her, not all that softly.

"Uh huh," she mumbled, kissing him back. Definitely whisky.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Getting better, thanks. I don't feel sick," she replied, linking her arms around his waist.

"But the headache's not completely gone, huh?" He could see that she was still pale and her eyes were rather narrow, indicating that she was still in pain. The bruise was also more prominent and there was a small bump over her right eye.

"Not completely but getting there," she reassured him. "I also rang the GP earlier and she can see me at one."

"That was quick," he said, somewhat surprised.

"She owes me one for the time I rescued her car from a ticketing."

"My, my, DI Drake. Bending the rules. Tsk! Whatever would the Super say if he found out?"

"I'd do him favour to keep him happy," she replied, giving him a wicked smile. "Anything he liked."

"I'll have to give that some thought. I hear he has a filthy mind so you never know what he'd ask you to do."

"I'll run it by you first then. See if you're happy with it."

"Good plan, Bolls. Especially if it's extra-filthy."

"Oh, I do hope so," she smiled and leaned her forehead against his chest. "Come with me today?"

"To the doc's?"

She nodded.

"Of course I'm going with you. Like you even needed to ask, you daft tart. Day off for me too. The Super, even though he is a filthy-minded old pervert, told everyone to bugger off and let me have the day alone with you."

Her arms tightened around him. "Thanks. Didn't think a doctor's surgery is a place you'd willingly go to."

"So, you thought I'd pack you off in a taxi? Alex, you didn't think I'd leave you on your own today, did you?"

She shrugged a little. "You never take days off unless you're forced to."

He bit back his initial reply. He wasn't being _forced_ to spend the day with her; he wanted to. "I take days off for this," he said lightly. "Bolls, whatever the doc tells you, we can handle it."

"Will you be okay... you know... if I am... pregnant?" her voice sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

_Be honest with her, you prat. You owe her that much. _"Dunno, Bolls. Yes, I think."

"You think?"

He nodded. "I know we've talked about kids and if we're going to have one sooner than expected... well..." he shrugged, "we'll deal with it. You know I'd love it if you were going to have our baby but it's just… unexpected and… fucking terrifying, actually."

"Because of what happened to Jane? And… and…"

"And Molly," he finished gently. "Alex, how could either one of us go through that again? Lose another child? What would it do to us?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. But I don't think that dwelling on what might happen will do either of us any good. There are no guarantees; we just have to hope. And help each other... comfort each other and…" she took a deep breath. "And not seek comfort in a whisky bottle. Please, Gene – don't go there."

"I'm doing my best, Bolls," he said lowly. "There's a lot going on right now."

She cupped his face in her hands. "I know there is, love, but we can face it together. I'll be here for you but I need you to be here for me too."

"I will be. I want to be. I want a family, Alex. For the first time in my miserable fucking life, I really want that but it's so hard to see myself with a happy family. I don't even know what that is."

"It'd be us and our children, in our house, living our lives together. I... God... I would love that so much. I've never had a home like that either, Gene. But with you, I can see it... so clearly."

He hugged her close. Sometimes, it was all too easy to forget that this was uncharted territory for Alex too. He kissed the top of her head lightly. "Let's just go and see the doc."

"And if I'm not pregnant?"

He shrugged. "Then you're not. Which would give us time for lots of, er, _practice_ until you see her again." His eyes sparkled at her.

* * *

He saw her coming out of the doctor's rooms and he was on his feet in a heartbeat. Her face gave nothing away as she moved towards the front door, which he reached out and opened for her. Once they were outside, he couldn't take it. "Well?"

Alex bit her lip and shook her head slightly.

He took her arm and they walked slowly towards the Quattro. "Oh."

She continued to stare at the ground.

"Bolls?"

She wouldn't look up.

"Hey, come on, Bolly. It'll be okay."

"I don't want okay," she said, her voice trembling as her hand rubbed her forehead. Her headache was not yet fully gone and the upset was only making it worse.

He couldn't bear to see her tears and he held her tightly against him. Alex clung to him; the disappointment she was feeling was crushing. She had so wanted to walk out of that surgery, smile at him, and tell him she was pregnant.

Instead, choking back her tears, she told him that not only was she not pregnant but the cold reality was that she was now 36 and heading towards 37. If they wanted children, they had better get a move on. Plus, some careful questioning had revealed that, accidentally, she had taken the pill constantly for nine weeks. Stupidly, she just forgot to take a break and had carried on from one lot, straight through to the next. Twice. She was such an idiot; here for a possible pregnancy and instead, she had just stayed on the pill. _Idiot_.

"You're not an idiot," he mumbled into her hair. "At least now we can plan a little bit."

There was a snuffly murmur of agreement in reply. "I'm sorry. You're disappointed too," she whispered.

"But not with you," he said, tilting her head up so he could look straight into her eyes. "Never with you, Alex. You have to believe me when I say that you will _never_ be a disappointment to me."

"I love you, my Gene," she replied and kissed him tenderly.

He caressed her cheek. "Love you too, Bolly Knickers. Come on, let's get you sorted out with some proper tablets for that headache."

So, hand in hand they walked to the nearest chemist and Alex presented the prescription that the doctor had given her. Gene whisked her off to a cafe, where they could relax and she could take her tablets. He then went to ring the station; he may have the day off but leaving Capplan in charge without him there as a safety net meant he couldn't settle until he knew everyone was still in one piece. Plus, he also had a few things he wanted his DCI to do. Leaving them on their own was like leaving a troop of monkeys, complete with matches, right next to a dynamite factory. Capplan was new and wasn't wise to all the little tricks and stunts that the CID crowd would pull if they got half a chance. Like Barlow's trick of blending into the walls so he could sneak off for a quick pint. Gene was convinced Barlow wore the same colour suits as the walls in CID for camouflage. After a hasty conversation, he was assured that the station and all personnel were still where they should be, and he returned to the table, sliding into the seat opposite her.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, Alf wanted me to drop into the boxing club this evening. Just had to ring him to tell him I can't." He dropped a fourth sugar cube into his tea and stirred it absent-mindedly.

She nodded and glanced at her menu. He was such a bad liar. She knew exactly who he'd been speaking to because she knew he'd been anxious about the station all morning, in addition to his anxiousness about her. She wasn't annoyed - it was who he was. Separating Gene from the police was an impossibility. Plus, one of the reasons why she fell in love with him in the first place was precisely because of all that passion, intensity and focus... she wouldn't want him to change one iota.

"Is Barlow still in CID, then?" she asked, not looking up from the menu.

"I have the day off, Bolly," he replied, studiously rearranging his cutlery, knowing he was well and truly rumbled. He risked sneaking a look at her from under his lashes. She was looking at him with a straight face but he could see the smile in her eyes. "Can't fool you, huh?"

"Don't want you to," she replied. "So you rang work; it's no big deal."

He scratched his head thoughtfully. "You know, you were right, Bolly. I do forget sometimes that you're a DI as well as my partner. Christ, my ex-missus would've had my guts for garters if I rang work on a day like today. I suppose... I've never had a relationship of equals before and I'm still not used to it."

"Neither of us are yet but we're having a lot of fun learning about it," she said, reaching over to catch his hand in hers. "I know why you rang work. It's who you are. And you've moved on from that old life and those old ways, to something else now. To someone else, namely, me. Things are different."

He looked down at their joined hands. "Are they, Bolls? I'm almost three years away from Manchester; that's not long enough to change who I am underneath it all. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really that different at all."

Her fingers tightened around his. "Don't be daft, Gene. You're getting this all the wrong way around. It's the man 'underneath it all' that I love and I don't want him to change. He's the person who's battling to come out. You're trying to shed the baggage that years in an unhappy marriage will bring. That's not easy - it's not easy for me either and I was only married for five years. I got married far too young, hadn't a clue what a real marriage was like and things very quickly fell apart."

"I got married too young as well," he replied, thinking he must've been insane to marry when he was barely twenty. "Not only did I not have a clue about marriage, I hadn't a clue about anything. Except sex. I was pretty good in the sack even back then, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, but you do 'say so yourself' so that evidence can't be used, Mr Hunt," she grinned.

"Huh," he huffed and pretended to be hurt.

Alex smiled at him and nudged a bun in his direction which, after grinning at her, he scoffed with relish. And hers too.

"So, even though we've both got the day off work, you won't mind if I tell you what Shaz and I have put together, then?"

Knowing Alex loved going through all the details in the files she had read, no detail being too insignificant for scrutiny, he pulled a face. "Am I going to get the long or the short version?"

"Short version."

"Then be my guest, Bolly," he smiled at her.

She stuck her tongue out at him before beginning. "Right, well we haven't come across any mention whatsoever of Alex's Court. So, I'm thinking that this might be a red herring. However, we did come across something far more interesting. The manager of a jewellers was shot in Golders Green when he was depositing the days takings into the night safe at his bank. The killing came out of _nowhere _and the local CID have begun to wonder if it was a deliberate hit. Now, this may have absolutely nothing to do with our case but it got me thinking. Could there be a hitman in operation on some of these blags? And if so, who do we know who has used one? Chas Cale. Now, if you think back to the Cale case, what was the description of the hitman that we were given?"

"Christ, I can't remember offhand, Bolls. A tall man?"

"Shit," she muttered. "Thought you might know. Would it be in the file?"

He nodded. "If Shaz did her job properly and typed up all the notes, then sure. It should be but, to be honest, I don't think we got a good description of him. Only what that little chap Donny told us."

"Can we look tomorrow?"

"_I_ can look tomorrow. You've got the rest of the week off."

"Oh, Gene, that's just the doctor being silly. I don't nee-" She caught sight of the look he was giving her and decided not to argue the point. "Right. Rest of the week off it is, then."

"Good. Glad we got that cleared up," he said, relived she wasn't going to fight him on that point. "You've worked well with Granger, Bolls. Got through a lot of stuff."

"We're going to crack this case, Gene. I know it. We just need a little bit more reliable intel and we're in."

"Intel," he scoffed. "Listen to you, Mrs CIA Spooky. Our best bit of _info_ so far has come from Jackie," he said, flicking at some sugar granules on the table.

She nodded. "That and what Tricky Dick gave us."

"Not much, is it?"

"No, but at least it's something."

"Meant to ask; you okay with all this Jackie business?" he asked, changing the subject from work. He hadn't known how to bring it up before now and even though he would much rather say nothing, now seemed as good a time as any.

"Am I _okay_ with it?"

"Her being my ex, an' all."

Alex figured she may as well just come straight out with it. "Well, are you going to sleep with her?"

He spluttered into his tea. "_What_? No!"

"Well, that's good. Do you want to sleep with her?"

"Alex!" he cried. "What the hell? No, I'm not going to and no, I don't want to."

"Then stop worrying about it," she said lightly. "And stop worrying that _I'm_ worrying about it because I'm not. I trust you. You should trust yourself. End of."

He gave her a grim smile. "End of, then."

"Gene," she said gently, leaning towards him. "If the whole thing with Jackie is still bothering you, we can still talk about it if you want to. I just meant that you have my total trust with no conditions, okay?"

He nodded and leaned forward, looking her in the eye. "Don't really feel like talking about Jackie Queen today."

"Good. Me neither," she replied and stole a few crumbs from his plate.

He ordered more food and they sat for two hours or so, drinking tea, talking, flirting, planning and gradually, she felt the dull ache behind her eyes beginning to lift.

"Oh, I do feel so much better," she said, sighing in relief and stretching.

His eyes twinkled at her. "Feeling up to some, er, exercise?"

She shrugged and pretended not to understand his meaning. "Actually, I'd prefer not, if you don't mind. I should visit the Superintendent who's in need of a favour for giving us both the day off work."

"That can be arranged," he grinned and they left the cafe, both hurrying towards the car. He unlocked the door for her and handed her the keys. "You better drive, Bolls. My gear stick has jammed and it requires delicate manoeuvring to pop it into place."

She laughed and got into the car. Tyres squealing, she had them home in no time.

* * *

Much later, Gene rolled over and ran a hand down the hollow of her spine. Alex stirred and mumbled something in her sleep. He did it again and this time, she opened one sleepy eye.

"Hello," she croaked, her voice husky.

"Hello," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What do you want _now_?" she asked crossly. Her mock grumpy tone made him smile.

"I am bloody starving," he whinged, his hand still smoothing over the skin on her back. "And I need something a damn sight more substantial than frigging rabbit food, so don't even suggest it. Just wondering if you're hungry too?"

She snuggled in close to him. "I could eat the arse off a running ostrich."

He laughed loudly and gathered her up, giving her a wet kiss just behind her ear, which made her giggle. "It's supposed to be 'eat the arse off a low-flying duck', Bolly."

"I know but I'm terribly hungry," she grinned.

"Right then, only one thing for it. Off we go out for some grub because neither of us is fiddling about in the kitchen."

"Damn. I love a good fiddle in the kitchen."

Gene spluttered with laughter for the second time. "For a posh bird, you're one hell of a tart."

She stretched and placed her arms around his neck. "And don't you just love it."

He grinned in agreement and kissed her quickly. "Come on, shift. The sooner we find food, the sooner we get back."

Before he knew it, he was flat on his back and Alex was leaning over him. "You're getting very good at practising, Gene."

"Only _getting_?"

"Even if you think you're pretty good in the sack, I like to think there's room for improvement."

"Oh, do you now?"

She leaned down and kissed him. "Yup." She slotted one leg in between his thighs.

"Careful now, Bolls. Wouldn't want any knee-jerk reactions to break anything. Because that'd put an end to any practising for the foreseeable future."

"There's nothing down here to break - oh. Wait." She moved her leg against him and smiled wickedly. "There is! At least, there's _something_ here but I can't quite figure out what that could be for..."

He played along, as his hands had moved to her hips. "Me neither. Wonder what would happen if I lifted you like this -" he moved her so she was straddling him properly, "and then you sort of moved back a bit..."

"Like that?" she whispered, feeling him slip inside her.

Gene closed his eyes. "Christ," he hissed. "Yeah, exactly like that."

"And then I could move a bit forward again..."

"Jeeeesusss...."

"And back."

Reflexively, his fingers gripped her waist as she teased him. Slowly, slowly, slowly, her hands everywhere on his body, until he thought he would explode. "Alex... please..." He could feel beads of perspiration trickle down behind his ears.

She leaned forward and licked his neck, whispering into his ear. "What would you like me to do?"

"Just... let me..." he groaned and flipped her on to her back. His hands captured her head and he stared deep into her eyes, seeing his own lust and love mirrored there. He had enough of slow movements, and the tenacious hold he had on his control snapped. Driving them both to completion now, he moved faster, loving it when she drew her legs around his waist and held him tightly. He watched, fascinated, as she threw her head back in ecstasy, calling his name, pulling him even closer. He followed her into blissful release, biting at her shoulder gently. Bodies heaving for breath, she still wouldn't let him go which was just as well because he didn't want to move. Drifting in silence, they were both content to wait for heart rates and breathing to return to normal. He drew patterns on her shoulder which was shimmering with perspiration and he could feel her fingers massaging the back of his head, lifting his damp hair as her breath stirred little puffs of cool air around his ear.

He woke to find himself curled around her. Looking up a little, he met her eyes. "Hello, again."

"Hello yourself," she smiled back and then laughed as his stomach rumbled loudly.

Gene snorted. "I've no reserves left, Bolly. I'm beginning to waste away."

She ran her hands down his chest and rested them lightly on his belly, poking him softly. "Yup. Nothing there. All that padding must be just air."

"Get off, Cheeky Knickers," he grinned. "Come on. This time, we'll get up and you," he reached over to give her a tickle, "stop distracting me."

"Hey! You're the one who-"

"There'll be no ducks, low-flying or otherwise, to eat the arse off, if we don't get a move on," he said. He flung back the duvet, ignoring her protests and the rush of cold air. "Get up, Drake, and let's find a half decent restaurant before I start nibbling _your_ arse. That's big enough to feed an entire arm-"

She goosed him. "_Fowl_ play, I know, but you deserved - Gene, NO!" she cried and squealing with laughter, she dived for the bathroom, just managing to shut the door before she was subjected to the tickling of a lifetime.

* * *

In the end, Alex persuaded him to buy fish and chips, not that it really took much persuasion on her part. They walked back to the car together from the chippie and he was just about to open the door when she stopped him.

"Gene? Let's go to Hyde Park. To the Italian Gardens."

"You sure?"

She nodded so he winked at her, handed her the parcels of food and drove them to Hyde Park. She slipped her free hand into his as they parked next to the Serpentine Gallery. Then, finding "their" bench, they sat down and ate the best chips she'd had in London, not saying much at all until everything was eaten.

"All finished?" he asked, seeing her practically lick the chip bag clean.

"Finished," she replied and tossed their various wrappings into the bin. "That was delicious."

He kissed her, tasting the salt and vinegar on her lips. "Mmmm. Deliciouser."

She grinned up at him. "I love days off."

"Me too."

Then the reason for their day off flashed through both of their minds.

"Come on, Bolls, let's have a walk. Don't be sad, love," he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up, placing his arm around her shoulders.

"Can't help it," she said quietly as she placed her arm around his waist and they walked slowly towards the fountains. "I was so sure this morning, Gene. Teasing you, letting you see me in the shower, hoping you'd notice something different... Feel like a big fraud now."

He kissed her temple. "Don't say that," he whispered into her ear. "Have you any idea how beautiful you looked this morning? Jesus... you make me feel like... I don't even have the word for it."

She laughed and turned herself into his arms properly. "I get the message."

He looked down along his nose at her. "Do you? Really?"

She nodded and hugged him as hard as she could. "I do."

"Well, that's good because I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever say those words to me."

"Huh? I say them all the time! I tell you that I love you and th-"

"Not _those_ words, you fruitcake."

"Then what -"

"We've talked about it enough, don't you think? _I do,_" he emphasised

"You do wh- oh. _OH_!"

He twinkled down at her. "Alex?"

"Yes?" she breathed, hardly daring to move.

"I have a question I'd like to ask you."

"_Yes_! Er, I mean, ask it." Her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

He smiled and tucked some of her flyaway hair behind her ear. "Will you marry me?"

She pressed her fingers to her lips, her wide smile evident behind them. He was pretty sure that somewhere in the muffled squeal or sob she gave was a yes.

"I take it that was a yes, then?" he smiled.

"Oh, love, of course it is," she sniffled and then cried, "YES!" in delight. Laughing, she flung her arms around him. Her cry startled the ducks and one flew right over them, almost hitting Gene's head.

"There you go, Bolls. A low-flying duck. Gnaw away."

She snorted with laughter against his shoulder. "It's probably the same duck who interrupted our first kiss."

"The little bastard." He pretended to make a grab for it.

Laughing, Alex turned his face towards her and kissed him softly, gradually deepening the kiss until they were completely lost in each other. Eventually, Gene pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

"You sure, Alex? I'm a miserable old bastard who's a bit too fond of booze and fags. And fry-ups. And -"

"And you're a good, decent, kind and generous man. And you love me just as much as I love you. You are my whole world. Don't you know that by now?"

He held her close to him, completely overwhelmed by the certainty of her words. She was giving him a second chance to live and he wasn't going to piss it away. It would be hard but the rewards would be more than he could ever have imagined. "I'll probably fuck up, Bolly. But I'm promising you that nobody will _ever_ come between us. It's about the only thing I can promise you."

She smiled at his gruffness. "Well, that's good enough for me. Remember, a deal's a deal, Gene. No backing out or I'll stamp your arse as property of the Fraud Squad."

"Well, I wouldn't want that now, would I?" he replied, chuckling as he squeezed her tight.

She caressed his cheek, her eyes sparkling up at him. "Hmmm. I had better make sure that you could never say you weren't asked about all this. So…" she cleared her throat dramatically. "Will you marry me, Shirley?"

He laughed and kissed her again. "Yes, you cheeky tart. Of course I will."

.oOo.


	10. Fleet Street

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: It's been quite a while, hasn't it? When I said I hoped to get this finished before series 2, you all know I _meant_ series 3, right? Huge thanks to Lucida Bright for her invaluable encouragement and beta work. My thanks to all of you too, whom I've shamefully kept waiting for a ridiculously long time. On with the show.

* * *

**Fleet Street**

The following day, Gene had to leave for work early, even though he was most reluctant to leave Alex in their warm bed. He could hardly believe his luck – she'd said yes. Despite their previous experiences with marriage, it felt different this time. Maybe it was because they were older and somewhat wiser. Or maybe it was because that the thoughts of not being together were intolerable. Either way, they'd spent most of the night enjoying their happiness in every imaginative way they could think of.

The alarm beeped again and Gene looked at it evilly before switching it off and carefully getting out of bed. He managed to shower, dress, have breakfast and return to kiss her goodbye, before Alex even woke.

"See you later," he said, his voice low as he kissed her. "You be good today and don't do anything too mad or exciting."

"I intend to spend the entire day doing nothing at all," she replied with a happy sigh. "I might take a nice bath, shave my legs, maybe do-"

"Stop," he interrupted. "Don't tell me."

"Maybe do _my nails_," she said pointedly, grinning up at him.

"Oh. Right – fine with me, Bolls," he smiled back. "Don't use my razor, though."

"Of course I won't," she lied, twirling some of his hair around with her finger.

He snorted and kissed her hand in farewell. "I'll be back at six, Fussy Knickers. Enjoy your day of pampering."

"I will," she replied, reaching up for one last kiss. "Don't be late. Oh, Gene? Would you look for the file on Chas Cale for me? I'd-"

He clapped his hands over his ears on the way out the door. "You're having a bath, shaving your… legs and not thinking about work. You are resting. Bye, Bolly!"

She laughed to herself as he ran down the stairs. "Bye!" she called after him.

The front door closed, the Quattro roared to life and he was gone. Alex flumped back to her pillow and stretched languidly. Another hour in bed would do just the trick. Well, an hour or two.

She'd get up when she was hungry.

* * *

At six o'clock exactly, Gene arrived home to an enthusiastic welcome from a scrubbed and polished Alex. Figuring he should do something equally as nice for her, he relented and dumped a file on the table in front of her.

"Right, Bolls, I shouldn't do this but sod it. One file won't kill you." Files instead of flowers for his fiancée; he was the luckiest man he knew.

She seized it. "Chas Cale. Brilliant, Gene, thanks," she replied with a broad smile and moved to open it but Gene's hand snapped the file shut again. She glared at him. "What the -"

"Glasses?" He gave her a steady look until she sighed and with mutters and grumbles, she went to retrieve them. He heard her rummage about upstairs, before she stomped back down and huffed into the kitchen.

"Dammit! Gene, did you see where I left -" She pulled her glasses out from her robe's pocket. "Oh."

Gene rolled his eyes and moved to put the kettle on. Alex opened the file eagerly and scanned through the contents until she found the notes from her conversations with Donny. The details about the hitman had to be in here somewhere. "Hitman… hitman… _aha_! Here we go. Or not…"

"Quite," he replied.

Alex pulled a face. "All that's in here is that the man was tall. I never asked Donny for a full description of the hitman."

"Nope."

"And you brought the file home -"

"So you could see for yourself because you might not believe me otherwise."

She sighed and dropped the file back to the table. "Could we interview Donny again, do you think? I mean… no. No, we can't."

He pulled a chair out and sat beside her. "Bolls, of course we can't. You want to interview a little boy about the night his uncle was shot right in front of him? He probably remembers nothing but the mess Billy's face was in. This is all a very tenuous link and just because we've a hitman involved in one case, you _think_ there may be one involved in another-"

"But -"

"But nothing. We need something more to work with here and just because one scumbag has used a hitman, it doesn't necessarily follow that your hunch links all these cases together."

She sat back, realising that what he was saying was true, even though it felt like he was slowing her down. "Then we have no option. We have to go back to Jackie and the Tricky Dick stuff and that's going to take time. And maybe I shouldn't try so hard to make connections-"

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's what you do best, love, but give yourself a chance to get better, eh? Doesn't look like there's any sort of link to Cale – so what? If it helps to speed things up for you, you can come back to Fenchurch with Shaz until Wednesday and look through the Tricky Dick stuff. In the meantime," he reached across and took the file back, "rest."

She smiled warmly at him and sat on his lap, curled her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "I missed you today," she whispered.

Gene closed his eyes and hugged her close, feeling a sense of relaxation steal over him as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "How do you do that?" he mumbled.

"Magic," she whispered back, her fingers still flexing and stroking.

She felt a low rumble in reply and smiled to herself. Big cat purring.

He reached up and took hold her left hand. Kissed her knuckles, and rubbed his thumb over her ring finger. "Should've got you a ring before I asked you to marry me," he said quietly.

"I don't need one," she replied.

He squeezed her affectionately. "Maybe, Bolls, but it would be a nice thing to give you."

Alex tilted his head up and cupped it in her hands before she kissed him again. "It would be lovely. But don't spend -"

He interrupted her with a kiss. "Money is only money. If it's the right ring, you'll have it. Even if I have to shell out as much as a fiver."

Alex chuckled.

"You'd be amazed at what you can get for a fiver in London. Real classy too, if you know where to look," he twinkled at her before planting a big, sloppy kiss just below her ear. The sound of her delighted laughter was reward enough for him.

She hugged him tightly. "You're the best medicine I could wish for, Gene Hunt."

He snorted. "Soppy tart." But his arms said otherwise as he returned her hug, shifting so she could cuddle into him. "How are you feeling, love? Honestly."

"Okay," she murmured. "I'm on the mend."

"You're still a little bit pale," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "Tired?"

"Mmm," she hummed, closing her eyes as he gently massaged her head with his fingers.

"Want to go to bed?"

Her eyes met his. "Yes… but I'm not sleepy."

"Me neither."

They grinned at each other and then almost tripped each other up in their race up the stairs.

* * *

"Don't move," he breathed and gazed down at her with intensity.

"Won't," she whispered back, eyes locked on his.

Gene closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. Buried to the hilt, with his arms cradling her head and her legs tightly around his hips, he didn't want to her move an inch. _Heaven. Absolute heaven._

Alex kissed him softly; beautiful man.

"Never knew..." he murmured. "Never."

She hummed her agreement and kissed him again.

After a few long, quiet minutes, he rolled his hips gently against hers once more before finally moving to her to his side, holding her tight against him, still joined. He tucked his head under her chin and his lips pressed a few sleepy kisses against her collarbone, shoulder and side of her neck. Her hand trailed up and down the hollow of his spine, before finally coming to rest over the warm spot at the small of his back. Gene still didn't release her or move away; he was completely lost to her and as his breathing got slower and deeper she knew he was falling asleep. As carefully as she could, she slid her leg from around him and gradually shifted so his head was on her shoulder properly. He was out for the count at this stage and she whispered soft words of love and comfort for his ears only.

He twitched in his sleep and sighed her name. Alex smiled - wondered what were they doing in his dreamland. Having more amazing sex? Talking? Laughing? Fighting? Whizzing around London's streets in the Quattro? Lying in the darkness, she could feel him drift into an even deeper sleep and the fact that he was so relaxed with her made her almost irrationally happy. They'd been together for months and it felt like it had been this way between them always. She couldn't even remember what it was like to work with him as a just a colleague. Or, even weirder, what it was like when she first met him. A loud, brash, sexist pig? She felt an unreasonable anger towards the person she was in those early days. How dare she think that about him? Bitch.

She laughed softly, picturing herself giving herself a good slap across the face for insulting her husband. Okay, technically not her husband yet, but he would be and soon. Alex fell asleep with her head full of plans and dreams, thinking that you just never knew where'd you'd find happiness.

* * *

While Alex took her mandated sick leave, Gene tried to move things forward a bit from Fenchurch. The boys at The Sweeney were solely focused on stopping more blags and with Alex out of action, he had no idea how things were progressing on that front. Getting their grabby hands on her had resulted in mostly one-way traffic, indeed, had it not been for Alex's diligence in keeping Fenchurch up-to-date, they'd have heard the sum total of sweet Fanny Adams.

So, until there was a little more two-way communication, Gene was determined that Fenchurch should press on and keep whatever they found out to themselves for now. He knew that the only leads they had on this whole thing were from Jackie and Tricky Dick. As there was no point in trying to sort everything out at once, he decided to tackle the Jackie problem first.

It had taken two days of careful planning to get this meeting organised so that Jackie wouldn't feel under pressure to talk. Gene needed to know what 'Alex's court' meant and he needed to know soon – any threat to Alex was going to be eliminated, soon as. Gene drummed his fingers on his desk and checked his watch for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening. He had dispatched Capplan to meet with Jackie and was waiting for him return with news, which had better be good. There was a knock on the doorframe and Gene glanced up.

"Come in, Andy," said Gene, knowing immediately from the look on the DCI's face that whatever Capplan had to say, it was going to piss him off.

"I met Jackie, like we arranged," began Andy, thinking he should just cut to the chase. "But she said that she wasn't interested in monkeys, only the organ grinder. Cheeky bitch. Anyway, sorry, Sir – got nothing."

"And exactly how hard did you try, Capplan?" He simply could not believe it. They had _nothing_?

Andy was nettled. "She's _your_ contact. She smelled a rat and slammed the door on me. You should've met her. Your contact, your deal. That's how it goes."

"Don't you _dare_ presume to tell me about this job!" Gene snapped, anger firing through him at Capplan's belligerent tone.

"You're blaming me for this going tits up?" Capplan spat back, his own temper flaring. "I did my best for you, tried every fucking tactic I could think of but she wasn't having it! She was _never_ going to talk to me and I tried to tell you that!" He was normally a placid man but he was a legend for losing it in spectacular fashion on very rare occasions. This was rapidly turning into one of those moments as both men squared up to each other.

"You're such a fucking sap, Capplan. You couldn't talk to a bird because you're worried about what your precious missus might think." That was below the belt and Gene knew it.

Andy's eyes narrowed dangerously – if Gene wanted to play dirty, he was only too happy to comply. "Yeah, well, from what I've heard, there's nothing you used to like better than a really good fuck with your ex, right? You don't want to meet her now because you've had your reunion. I get it, _Sir_!"

Gene's eyes turned murderous. He marched around his desk and for the briefest of moments Capplan thought the man was going to throttle him. Instead, Gene wrenched the door open with a roar that echoed down the corridor. "_GET THE FUCK OUT!_"

Capplan left while he still had a neck and the breeze from the door slamming behind him ruffled his hair. Ignoring the shocked looks from the secretaries he stamped back downstairs to CID.

"Guv?" asked Ray, seeing his white face.

"Not now, Carling." Capplan swept into his office, snatched up his coat, and was gone in less than twenty seconds.

"Bloody hell," breathed Chris.

"He must've had a row with the Super," came Crane's posh voice. "And if Andy Capp looks like that, then it must've been bad. We'd better keep our heads down, boys. Obviously, the Jackie Queen meeting did not go well."

Everyone immediately focused on their work and tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. If Gene Hunt was on the warpath then nobody wanted to be in the firing line.

* * *

It took Gene a good hour before he began to calm down and think rationally about his next move. Normally, he'd have talked to Alex but this was different. He didn't want to drag up the situation with Jackie again – worse, he couldn't repeat what Capplan had said. He rubbed a tired hand across his forehead in resignation. Capplan may be a touchy bastard but he was also sort of right. The only reason Gene hadn't gone to see Jackie himself was because she made him remember. She was the embodiment of his past infidelities and indiscretions. Of arguments with his wife, of loneliness, of hurt, of hundreds of ruined dinners and a cold, silent house. He didn't want to bring that into his life now; he especially didn't want it anywhere near Alex.

He groaned and let his head thud softly on to his desk; he wanted to go home and see her and forget about all of this shit. He was interrupted by a single knock on the door and he sat up quickly and schooled his features into a scowl. "Come in."

Capplan pushed the door open, paused for a moment and then spoke. "I'm sorry about earlier, Sir."

Gene looked at him for a beat before beckoning him inside. It took guts to apologise. He pushed a whisky tumbler across the desk. "Yeah, me an' all. Come in – have a seat."

Andy sank into the visitor's chair and eyed the single malt with appreciation. "Didn't mean what I said about you cheating on Alex. Was talking complete bollocks."

Gene nodded. "Me too. You and Peggy are solid – be proud of that. From now on, we leave home life at home, agreed?"

"Agreed."

They clinked glasses and sat back, both of them figuring that they had a lot more to gain by working well together and far much more to lose if they fell out.

Andy hesitated, unsure of how far he could go but figured he'd nothing to lose. "And you and Alex are okay? She's feeling better?"

Gene nodded. "She's going to be fine. It was an acute migraine and she's a bit washed out after it but otherwise good. We're fine."

Capplan sensed Gene wanted to say more but wasn't a man given to talking about his personal life. He also knew that sometimes, rank and reserve be dammed, sometimes you just had to get it off your chest. "Fine? Is that the best you can do?"

Gene tried to look nonchalant and failed, his obvious pride in Alex shining through. "We're very good, then."

Capplan laughed. "Okay – message received. But if you ever work up the guts to ask that woman to marry you, Gene, try for something a bit better than, 'we're very good'."

"I've nothing to worry about there. She's already said yes."

"Bloody hell! You're one dark horse, you are," he said in delight and offered his hand in congratulations. "You should've said!"

"I just did," replied Gene, shaking the man's hand. "Thanks Andy." A smile spread across his face and he took another gulp of whisky. "Right – now, from what I can make out we need to do two things. First off, let's figure out what we do about the delightful Miss Queen."

Capplan snorted and propped his feet up on the desk. "Rather you than me on this one."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, I know but there's no way around it. She a canny cow and now, she won't talk to anyone except me. Shit – I've got to meet her and I need backup. Something's fishy about this whole thing, Andy and I don't like it. So here's what I'm thinking…"

They stayed long into the evening and by the time they were done, Gene was certain he had a DCI who understood the lay of the land, so to speak.

"It's still not the nicest thing to call her though, is it?" asked Andy as he waited for Gene to lock his office.

"Jackie? She's the one who coined it, the gobby tart."

* * *

One week later, with the late August sunshine beating down, Gene loitered near the door of the pub and checked over his shoulder one last time. He'd walked up and down Fleet Street to kill some time but now, enough was enough and it was time to do business. The Tipperary pub was doing a roaring lunchtime trade and he dodged neatly inside, just ahead of a group of hacks. Everyone seemed to be making the most of the beautiful day - nothing like a lunch that went on until 3pm. He'd seen a some familiar faces pass through the doors already, including a few defence barristers that he wasn't too fond of. Court ponces. He walked swiftly by their table without so much as a glance in their direction and hoped they'd choke on their claret. Jackie was already there; he spotted her instantly, even though she was sitting right at the back.

"Hello, Gene," she said breezily when he reached her table.

"Jackie."

"Finally decided to talk to me, then?"

He was too tired for banter and sat down opposite her. "Come on, don't play games, Jackie. I'm not pissing about here. Who told you about this 'Alex court' bollocks?"

"Are you asking a journalist to revel a source?" she replied, eyebrow raised.

"Yes. Or tell me everything your source told you."

A smile curled at her lip. "Is it my scarf?"

"What?"

"If it's not the scarf then I wish you'd tell me what it is because I must look stupid to you."

He glared at her and sucked in an angry breath. "You have no idea, do you? You think this is a good way to get a by-line and wind me up in the process."

"It's a story. It's a big one or why else would you send your little friend to weasel it out of me?"

Gene knew it had nettled her that he had sent Capplan to try and get the information he needed. "Tell me, Jackie, it's important. I won't use the information for anything except to ensure the safety of one of my officers. You have my word on that."

"You could've told me all this in the first place and we could've avoided the song and dance routine. I take it that 'Alex court' refers to this Alexandra Drake, then?"

He willed himself to keep calm. "I don't know. That's why I need you to tell me."

She smiled at him. "You hungry? We could go some place nice for dinner."

He shook his head. "No. Not hungry, thanks."

"It's just dinner, Gene. To talk. And who knows, now that we're both free and single –"

So here it was at last. He sighed and then spoke, "I'm not free and single."

"Really? Well, it didn't stop you before," she said lightly, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"It stops me now," he said bluntly, no doubts plaguing him. "We can talk, I'll even buy you dinner but that's it. All I want is to get some reliable information. Also, I know you and I know why you've come to me with these little cryptic clues."

"I came to you because even though you walked out on me, I – idiot that I am – wanted to see you. That's no crime, Gene.' She looked upset, suddenly. "What did I do wrong?"

He rubbed his forehead, tired of all this. "Jackie... it was different, back then. I was different. You didn't do anything wrong except be with me at a time when you should've stayed well clear. I've been through too much shit and I don't want to go back to those days."

She laughed sourly. "You're not that different, Gene. So, have you been with this new woman for long?"

"None of your business."

"Ooo. Touchy. Sore subject? Made you wait, did she?"

Gene fixed her with an icy look and said in a low voice, "Can we move on?"

"No," she said simply and took a sip of her wine.

"Look, I don't have the _time_ to piss about," he said, barely keeping his temper in check. "Are you going to help me or not?"

His aggressive tone irritated her. "Right. I'm really not in the mood for a business meeting tonight. I'll be in touch."

"Jackie –"

"You're asking me to reveal a source, Gene."

"I don't care who your fucking source is!" he hissed. "For Christ's sake, Jackie – I only need to know what you know."

"Same difference. You'll forgive me if my confidence in the discretion of the Metropolitan Police is rather shaky."

He got to his feet. "Fine. Thanks for nothing."

Determined to have the last word, she spat, "Just remember this, Gene; a leopard doesn't change his spots. You'll be back. In fact, you'll come running back. I can read you like a book."

Furious, he marched away before she could say another word. It was never good to have the faults of your past thrown into your present. He cast a final glance at her as he left the pub. It was obvious that she didn't trust him. Why should she? He'd used her in the past and left her without so much as a goodbye. He may as well have left the money on her bedside table; no wonder she didn't believe him when he said he wasn't footloose and fancy-free. The Gene Hunt she once knew didn't do fidelity.

He sighed and crossed the road, lighting a fag as he went and taking a deep, satisfying drag. Despite the way things had ended, he knew he'd see her again. She needed his help just as much as he needed hers. At the moment, she had him on a hook and was going to make him wait. The best he could hope for was that she didn't keep him dangling for too long and that she never spoke to Alex. Especially not about…

Shaking the thought free from his head, he hailed a taxi back to Fenchurch, while, in the shadows and out of sight, eyes watched him go and then flicked back to the pub to watch the mark.

.oOo.


	11. Fenchurch East

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: Huge thanks to Lucida Bright for going above and beyond the call of duty on this one. It needed a hacking and it got one. Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far. I'm really glad you're enjoying this.

* * *

**Fenchurch East**

Gene detested waiting; it made him twitch. But he could do nothing else. Wait for Jackie Queen to stop sulking and reveal whatever information she was clutching to her chest. Wait for the Sweeney to stop faffing around. Wait for the Yard to let Alex go. Wait for somebody to get off their arse and do something. It was nearly the end of August, for Christ's sake.

He picked up the phone, and twenty minutes later two faces appeared at his door. Mick McGary and Tony Leddin, the two Flying Squad DCIs didn't look happy, but they'd obeyed his summons.

"Sit," said Gene, pointing at the chairs in front of his desk. He glared at them, saying nothing.

"We have no news," said Leddin, looking resentful.

"There's a surprise. I want to know two things. First, why you needed to move DI Drake from Fenchurch to a forgotten office at the Yard to review files till Doomsday? Second, what do you expect us to do about these blags if you give us no information whatsoever?"

McGary cleared his throat. "We didn't ask for Alex to move to the Yard. That was Detective Chief Superintendent Robertson."

"Don't mess me around, McGary. It was you that asked for a criminal psychologist." Gene paused. "I'm asking you again; why does she have to be at the Yard to review files?"

"Alex is looking for links between –" chimed in Leddin.

Gene snarled at him. "I swear if either of you tell me one more thing that I already know you'll be directing traffic tomorrow."

The two men glanced at each other but said nothing.

Gene got to his feet and walked round his desk, closing the door and leaning against it, making the two men twist in their seats. "There are very few places people can talk freely,' he continued, "but this office is one of them. Now before I fit you up for masterminding every corrupt scam in the Met, tell me what the hell's going on."

Glancing at McGary for back-up, Leddin started to talk. "Nobody's got the first clue what's going on. We're running around in circles, we get tip-offs that lead us to dead ends, we can't hold on to a core team but we can't drop this fucking investigation. Every time we even hint that we're wasting our time, some other piss fart of a shop gets done over and we look like idiots."

Sauntering back to his chair, Gene said, "Drake tells me that the only link is that there isn't a link at all."

"Exactly," said McGary. 'Alex has chased up every possible lead but it all comes to nothing. She has spent _days_ pouring over white boards, maps, phone records, banks statements, insurance details. Every crime scene in minute detail. There _is_ no link but the brass won't take no for an answer."

Gene looked at him sharply. "So… what, then?"

McGary met Gene's eyes. "This can't go further."

"It won't."

"Alex is right. One thing is crystal clear. It's completely random."

"Too completely random," said Leddin.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" asked Gene.

McGary nodded. "The fact that we can find nothing just stinks of someone being far too clever by half. Someone is carrying out armed blags to keep us chasing our tails. And we think someone on the inside is orchestrating the whole thing. Nothing else makes sense."

Gene nodded slowly. "Who else knows about this?"

"Nobody. Alex hasn't said anything and we don't want to drag her into this any deeper than she already is."

Gene drummed his fingers on his desk. "Right. Time for a few answers."

"Be careful," said Leddin. "Mick and I watch each other's backs. We can't watch yours."

Gene nodded thoughtfully, his eyes glittering. "Okay - then this is how we're going to play it. Alex comes back here next week to follow up on a snout and information we received some time ago. Agreed?"

The two men nodded. "Agreed. Anyway, the initial deal was that she'd still report to the DCI in Fenchurch," said McGary.

"Now I'm going to bollock you both for breaking up my team and you're going to walk out of here with a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle. That bit of news will be well received by whatever rat is acting as carrier pigeon. Carry on chasing your tails and when I have something solid, I'll be in touch." He slammed both hands on the desk in apparent fury. "And don't come back here again with that attitude," he shouted and marched across the room.

McGary rose to the challenge and began to shout a reply. "We were never going to work –"

"Don't you even THINK about answering me back," Gene roared and flung the door open. "DI Drake is back here Monday morning, end of. Now piss off!"

They were though the door like a shot and Gene slammed it so hard the whole structure quivered.

Then he smiled. Sometimes, one plus one made eleven. Quite a day and it wasn't over yet – time to tell Bolly she was coming back to base.

.oOo.

She could hardly wait until she heard his key in the door and she ambushed him as soon as he had set one foot into the hall. Pulling him against her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and shoulders and, sensing what she wanted, he lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she kissed him passionately.

Gene staggered backwards with the force of her onslaught and caused the hall door to slam behind them with a bang. They broke their kiss with a breathless laugh.

"Now, that's a welcome home," he said, slightly out of breath.

"That's only the beginning," she said, kissing him again. "I'm coming back to Fenchurch? Really?"

"Really, Bolls. Whatever's going on, you've done your bit. Don't want you left in that office until hell froze over."

Alex hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

"It's all on your own merit, Bolly. You've really impressed McGary and Leddin; you've worked very hard and you don't deserve to be tucked away and forgotten about."

She looked at him suspiciously. "What are you not telling me?'

"I don't like them having your arse to look at when you could be wiggling it in front of me." He kissed her properly. She began to slip out of his grasp and he locked his arms together tightly under her bum, not forgetting to have a feel on the way.

"Are you losing your strength, Hunt?" she teased, blowing cool air softly into his ear.

"My blood's only going to essential muscles at the moment, Drake," he replied, nipping at her throat.

"You able to walk up the stairs?"

"Nope," he said and shuffled towards the sitting room, Alex still held firmly in his arms.

"Gene? Gene, upstairs is more comf -" she broke off with a delighted shriek as he kicked the door shut, dumped her on the couch and joined her.

.oOo.

Gene couldn't wait to have Alex back in Fenchurch and resented having to wait out the week. It didn't help that the bastard DCI Mooreland showed up for a bomb scare in the local Tesco, creating havoc around the area and getting right up Gene's nose. The "bomb" turned out to be nothing more serious than a car battery with a wire coat hanger wrapped around it but it had taken a lot of time and budget to find that out.

He hadn't forgotten Mooreland's behaviour on the awful day of the Hyde Park bombing. The misery he'd put Alex through. He could still picture her pale face, her eyes red from crying. Mooreland, in a fit of spite, had kept her at an incident post when any decent human being would have sent her home, or at least sent her to join the Fenchurch crew where she should have been. Gene would never forgive him. He hoped Mooreland would have the sense to stay out of his way. He had enough to deal with at the moment without kicking the bastard's head in.

But early on Friday morning, Gene went into CID and there he was, Mooreland, talking to his old Branch buddy Crane. Gene stayed out of their sight and nudged the door open fractionally with the toe of his boot.

"Work is work, David. You must remember that," said Mooreland.

"I do. But this was a car battery and a coat hanger. I don't get-"

"Is Hunt shagging Drake?" interrupted Mooreland.

"I have no idea," came the reply.

"Bet he is. I would."

Gene's fist clenched. _Fucking bastard_.

"Right, Crane - you know where I am, of course. I'll be in touch."

"Sir, I have no links to Branch anymore and I-"

"What? Can't an old friend stop by to say hello?"

Gene had heard enough; he strode through the doors and stood directly in front of Crane.

Mooreland didn't bother getting to his feet. "Superintendent Hunt."

Gene gave him the hard stare.

"How's life with the big boys?" asked Mooreland.

Gene ignored him. "Where's Capplan?" he said to David.

"Gone for a paper, Sir, and he said he'd call up to see you with the final report on the bomb scare."

"Quite the hive of activity around these parts recently. Sir," said Mooreland, just this side of insolence.

As though Mooreland didn't exist, Gene kept his attention on Crane. "When Capplan gets back, tell him I'm waiting for him."

"Yes, Sir," said Crane.

Gene had almost left the office when Mooreland called out, "How's Alex?"

It took supreme effort but Gene continued on his way and showed no reaction whatsoever. Until he reached his office where he spent ten minutes throwing dart after dart with such fury that one dart gave up the ghost and fell apart.

.oOo.

Later that evening, all Gene's frustrations had been exorcised.

"Stop it, you," said Alex, looking down him over the rim of her glass.

"What?" he asked. His head was in her lap and he looked up at her, innocent pout in place.

Alex laughed and leaned down to kiss him. "As if you don't know. Lying there all rumpled, blond hair and blue eyed. You know exactly what you're doing." She smoothed a wayward lock of hair into place.

Gene shrugged, "I'm just lying here – can't help my hair and my eyes."

"Right," she said. "And are those Tweety feathers around your mouth, Sylvester?"

He stretched and gave up trying to hide the self-satisfied grin of contentment. "Can't help it, Bolls. I've got one gorgeous, sexy bird to come home to and from Monday, she'll be back in my cage."

"Can't wait," she said, twirling some of his hair around her finger. "Back on the team."

"We'll need de-briefing sessions at least twice a day."

She chuckled. "In your dreams, Sir."

"Dreams where you call me sir? Oh yes."

"This is going to be weird," she said, thinking what it would be like to work with him again.

"Nah, it'll be fine, Bolls. Unfortunately, I hardly see the inside of CID anymore. If I need to know something, an underling will bring it to me."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Volunteering for the position of chief underling, Sir."

"Tart," he replied with a grin.

Her fingers caressed the top of his chest, exposed by the unbuttoned V of his shirt. She popped another button open and traced a delicate line up to the hollow of his throat and back again.

"Are you happy to come back, Bolls?"

"Yes. I'm fed up with the Flying Squad, Gene. I'm going to crack up if I follow up another lead that goes nowhere. There is no link between all these blags. The whole set up stinks."

"What stinks?"

"Did you ever get the feeling that someone is making you look in the wrong places on purpose?"

He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to say more.

"I reckon these blags are being orchestrated to make us look in the wrong places at the wrong time. We spend time, money and energy on searching for connections that aren't there."

He smiled up at her. "Clever clogs. You're not the only one thinking all this is a set up." He filled her in on his chat with Leddin and McGary.

"Why didn't you tell me all of this?"

"Because if it's true then you've been dragged into this for a reason and if it's not true then you don't need to be involved any more than you are."

She withdrew her hand from his chest and Gene knew storm clouds were gathering.

"So you moved me to your cage?" she asked and his heart sank.

"No, Alex," he answered, his familiar scowl now in place. "McGary and Leddin know something is going on and they watch out for each other but there was no mention of what they do for you." He let that sink in a moment before continuing. "I have a responsibility to all the officers on my team and I would _never_ leave any of you to twist in the wind like that. So by sticking to the original plan and moving you back to Fenchurch I had a way of getting you the support you needed. I'm not pulling you off the investigation but you're going to do it with a team who watches out for each other."

He sat up and reaching for his wine glass he drained the last of it. "This is not about me and you," he continued, "and Alex, you have to let me do my job as I let you do yours. It's different now, love. From time to time, I'm going to know things and have to do things without explaining myself to you and you are going to have to trust me. You are a DI and I trust you to do your job and not to take any foolish risks. I believe you when you tell me that I am the most important thing to you and I'm relying on you not to let me down and that you won't go and do something stupid that would leave me…" his voice broke and he went to take another drink, only to find that he had already finished it.

She rested her head between his should blades and slid her arms around his waist.

"I'm not patronising you," he said, swallowing back the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. "Okay, maybe I should've explained all this to you but I didn't think I had to. I'm not putting you in a cage in Fenchurch – I would _never_ do that and I thought you would've understood; you are an officer on my team and-"

"Stop," she whispered and moved around so she could sit in his lap and hold him close. "Stop." She pressed kissed to his forehead, cheekbones and lips. "I didn't understand. I'm sorry."

He kissed her gently. "Bolly, there are going to be times when you won't understand and I'm not going to be able to tell you why all decisions are made but please, trust me-"

She interrupted him with more kisses. "You don't have to ask. Things are different in work now and it'll take a little bit of getting used to but I will. I promise."

He smiled at her. "You're a DI; it's your job to give your DCI a hard time and make sure he knows what the hell he's doing, the poor bastard. But you can't rip into your Superintendent and I know there will be times when you'll be dying to. It's why I have bodyguards in the form of three secretaries."

She snickered softly. "Fraidy cat."

"Of you in full flow? Christ, yes," he grinned and hugged her.

She cuddled close, glad that they'd leapt over yet another hurdle without an argument, quite the opposite in fact. After few moments of peaceful silence a thought struck her. "Gene?"

"Yes?"

"This Alex's Court thing with Jackie – do you still think it's something to do with me?"

He tucked her head under his chin. "I hope not but we can't rule it out either."

"What's going on?" she asked, "Why can't we just be left alone?"

"I don't know why but we'll be okay, Bolls. You and me – we've got each other's backs."

"We do," she whispered.

"You keep your eyes and ears open, especially next week."

"You too and if you have to go off investigating, will you make sure that-"

"Already taken care of, Bolls."

"Good," she said, still playing with the last fastened button on his shirt. "What's the plan for next week, then?"

"Monday, you come into Fenchurch and get yourself reacquainted and set up. Then on Tuesday – which I'm still taking off – you read through the Tricky Dick file. On Wednesday, fill us all in on what we have and let's get moving on his info. By Friday, I want it sorted."

Alex nodded. "If you haven't heard from Jackie by Friday, then you need to chase her up." She sighed deeply. "All that work, Gene… for what?" She let her head thud softly against his shoulder.

"It hasn't been for nothing, Bolls. Your hard work has been noticed and appreciated. Who knows what it'll bring when this whole thing is over."

She sighed again. "I feel as if I could sleep for a week."

"I know, love." He turned his face towards her and buried his nose in the silk collar of her robe, breathing in deeply as he loosened the knot on the belt. Alex giggled at the touch of his cool face against her neck and breasts. He shifted their position and knelt on the ground before her, hands slipping inside her robe and circling her waist as he continued to kiss all the lovely soft warm skin he could find. "Mmmm, lovely," he whispered, finally kissing her properly. Then he picked up their empty glasses and got to his feet. "Make the most of the weekend. Off to bed, Sleepy."

She hugged him tightly. "You'll be up soon, Grumpy?"

"Maybe," he grinned. "Go on, Bolly. Shoo."

"Leave the washing," she said, her intentions clear. She kissed him once more and left him to it.

Gene dumped all the crockery in the sink in two minutes flat and leapt up the stairs, taking them three at a time.

.oOo.

On Monday, they left for work together, revelling in the feeling of familiarity. Gene parked around the back of the station and they kissed each other goodbye in the car, with an assurance to meet in the canteen for some lunch. With that, Alex gathered up her jacket and headed back to CID and breathed in the familiar smoky air. "Home, sweet home."

Capplan called her into the office – they hadn't worked together before, after all. His office was different from Gene's – photographs of his wife and children, a few of his kids' drawing pinned on his notice board. They spoke about what her role would be and how she would fit into the team. All the details straightened out, Alex returned to the office. David Crane had already cleared off her old desk, much to Alex's surprise.

"David, you don't have to-"

"It's fine, Alex. I do better if I work closer to the coffee anyway. Like the way some people look like they need it injected into their veins as if they've been up all night." He smiled at her and gave her a cheeky wink.

She grinned, flipped him the two fingers, and slid in behind her old desk.

Shaz scooted over beside her with a stack of folders.

"This is what we're currently investigating, Boss," she said and soon, the two of them were absorbed in getting Alex up to speed and they kept at it until her phone rang around 11. It was Gene and he wanted to see her, soon as.

She managed to suppress her smile – they'd lasted all of two hours without seeing each other – and asked Shaz to sort out the remaining files for her. Then she headed off up the stairs to his office.

.oOo.

The knock on Gene's door made him stuff the report he was reading into his desk drawer and lock it, but it was Alex's face that peered round the door. "At last! Where've you been?"

"Working," she said pointedly and pulled out a chair. "What's up?"

"No time to rest your arse," he replied, pulling on his jacket. "Come on, Bolly, something to show you."

He marched her out of the station and round several corners before he turned down a small side street and into a poky little antiques shop. He rang a battered bell on the counter and there was a shuffling noise as an old man appeared.

"Ah, Mr Hunt. Good! You came back."

Gene nodded.

"Here we go," said Mr Salson and placed two old, tattered Bryant & May matchboxes on the counter. "Take your time. If you want me, just call." He shuffled off back to his office.

Alex slid the lids off. Inside each box was a ring; the one on the left was gold with an aquamarine solitaire and on the right, nesting in a black velvet cloth, was another gold ring with a small clear solitaire and delicate engravings around the band.

"What do you think, Bolls?"

She looked up at him in delight. "Gene… they're beautiful."

He slid an arm around her waist. "They'll suit you, then."

She smiled as she picked up one of the rings. "This aquamarine one is almost the colour of your eyes."

"It's not me who'll be wearing the ring." He kissed her head. "Soft tart."

She gave him a nudge. "What about this one?" She held it up to the light.

"It needs cleaning but the diamond is perfect. No chips or cracks."

She traced the tip of her finger over the engraving, so delicate she could hardly feel it. "It's so beautiful," she whispered, her eyes shining. "How on earth did you find this place?"

"Fate, Bolls. That and all the visits we've been doing to prevent these armed blags. "

Alex seemed almost memorised by the intricate vine patterns on the band. "Then it was meant to be. No other ring we've seen comes close."

"Want to try it on?"

She smiled at him, held out her left hand and he slid the ring into place. "It's perfect," she said as she cupped his jaw and kissed him. "Thank you so much."

"We can get a nice box for it," he said.

Alex shook her head. "No. It's been in this little matchbox and black velvet cloth for years. It's part of it."

"A diamond in the rough, huh?" he grinned.

"Mmm." She kissed him again. "I _love_ it." She glanced up at him. "Is it going to break the bank?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "Fiver."

She snorted and hugged him close while he called out for Mr Salson. While they sorted out the payment and Gene filled out the cheque, Salson passed a chain to Alex.

"It's costume jewellery," he said, catching the look on both their faces. "Keep your ring on this until you get it resized, my dear. It's a bit loose and you don't want to lose it. I can give you the name of my jeweller – with that engraving you need someone who knows what he's doing."

She glanced at Gene who nodded in agreement. "Okay, Mr Salson, we'd appreciate that."

Gene fastened the chain around her neck and Alex made sure the ring was tucked safely inside her blouse.

"Lucky ring," he whispered in her ear, as they walked back to Fenchurch. "All warm and cushioned."

She giggled, blushing. DI Alexandra Drake, level-headed occupational psychologist, was dizzy with love. She didn't know how she was supposed to go back to work when she felt like dancing down the street.

As they reached Luigi's corner, Alex gave him a heartfelt hug. "Thank you again, sweetheart."

"You deserve it," he said and then frowned at her. "Right, you, put me down. My hard-as-nails image is taking a severe hammering. Go on, bugger off and do something useful." Alex pouted and chuckling, he kissed her lightly. "See you for lunch?"

"Of course," she smiled. "We lasted two whole hours this morning. I reckon we can survive another 40 minutes."

"Just about," he said and then gave her one final hug. "Bye, Bolls." He released her and walked towards the side entrance to the station.

Alex, barely able to take the smile off her face, went to the front entrance and returned to CID where only Shaz noticed the rosy pink flush on the DI's face.

.oOo.

Ray tried to get Gene's attention about the Tesco bomb for the third time but it was clear that the Superintendent's attention was fixed on Alex as she stood in the dinner queue. Ray followed Gene's gaze, sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. This was too good an opportunity to miss. "So... City really are a bunch of poofs then, right, Guv?"

"Right," replied Gene, pushing some spaghetti aimlessly around his plate, eyes fixed on Alex as she pondered over an apple or peach at the counter. _I love you, Bolly_.

"I mean, they're that bad, they couldn't hit water if they fell off a boat. Bunch of fairy boy nonces. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Chris could hardly keep his laughter hidden and decided he'd have a go while the Superintendent was so smitten. "I bet City will give up the day job and start cleaning the boots in United from now on. Boot boys are all they're fit for. Wouldn't you say so, Sir?"

"I would..." Alex and peaches. Peachy. Delightful images from last night filled his brain.

Ray bit back a snort of laughter. "Boot boys? Too good for 'em. I reckon they'll take over as cleaners in Old Trafford. Bog cleaning would be perfect, right, Guv?"

Gene watched her as she moved towards him, her fitted blue jumper showing off all the right curves in all the right places. "Since you both know so much about bogs and boots, you'll spend the next hour in the bog extracting my boots from your respective arses if you say another word," he said, smiling at Alex and ignoring the stricken look on Ray and Chris's faces. He shifted down a seat so Alex could sit beside him and then his gaze turned to Chris.

"J-just going, Sir," stammered Chris, seeing death in the steel blue glare. Ray was already scuttling to the door.

Alex was bemused at their sudden departure. "What's that about?"

Gene grinned at her and looked her up and down slowly. "I love that jumper."

She shook her head, even though the heat from his gaze made her smile and blush a little. "You are an _incorrigible_ flirt, Gene."

He shrugged. "I can't help it if you walk in here looking like Diana Dors, can I?"

"She was blonde."

"It's not her hair that reminds me of you," he said with a twinkle.

.oOo.

Much later that evening, after showers, dinner and good wine, they were curled up on the garden lounge, enjoying the balmy night. Gene was pensive and not particularly talkative; he held her close and stared into the darkened garden, watching the occasional moth flutter near the lanterns Alex had lit earlier.

He slid his hand inside her robe and placed it over her heart. "Don't know what to say, Bolly. Thank you seems piss poor, but… thank you for agreeing to marry me and for putting up with me. I know it's not always easy."

She twisted around to face him. "You have no idea, do you?" she said softly, tracing his eyebrows, nose and lips. "The minor annoyances between us are nothing, _nothing_, compared to the happiness we have, love. I know I drive you nuts too, but we don't let all those minor little things get in the way of loving each other. Thank you too. For my beautiful ring and for – everything."

He kissed her gently and hugged her tight. "Best girl."

She smiled up at him and cupped his jaw. "You're quiet this evening. What's up?"

He shrugged slightly, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. She had a right to know – before they made any promises that weren't easy to break. "Do you know when I first came across Jackie Queen?"

Alex frowned. What had Jackie got to do with his quiet mood? Oh Christ… he didn't… "No. All I know is that you had affair with her shortly before you got divorced."

Her tone was clipped and Gene knew what she was thinking. "Yeah, Bolls. Not a mistake I'd make twice. This was ten years before that," he said, before taking a deep breath. "Okay – there was a post office blag that went tits up. This 14-year-old kid with a gun ran out of the post office towards the crowd. At least, I thought it was a gun and I had to make a decision so I did – I shot him in the back, I killed him and the gun was a stick." He heaved a deep sigh before continuing. "Jackie roasted me for it in the newspaper and the people in my city, they all crossed over the road if I walked along it. I was worse than shit on their shoes and it was a long time until they forgot. But I never did – never forgot that I had lost a kid and never forgot that I killed one. I couldn't stand to be around children. Blamed them for my mistakes."

He sat up slightly and pulled a cigarette from the packet, but didn't light it. "I do want children, Alex, it's… apart from all that shit there's memories of my old man. I'm just… you know…"

"I know, love."

He closed his eyes in grateful relief. The awful secret, the one he knew Jackie could blurt out to spite him, had no power any more. He looked down at the kind, loving woman in his arms; tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes. "I love you," he said and for the first time in his life, Gene really understood what that meant.

.oOo.

On Tuesday, Alex wanted to get in early; she kissed a sleepy Gene goodbye and envied his day off. "See you later," she whispered, kissing his forehead one last time.

He hummed and turned over. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.

Alex suppressed a laugh and left him to it, his snores already evident by the time she left the house. When she arrived in Fenchurch, there was nobody in CID yet, so she had the place to herself. She cleaned off a whiteboard properly, organised notebooks, got pens that worked, collected a few blank tapes and tape recorder and commenced a new file. By the time she was done, everyone else had arrived and just after nine, she went to the custody desk and chatted with Viv for a while before he showed her where all the snout information was kept. He signed her in at 9.17am and gave her the keys to the filing cabinet.

Tricky Dick was filed under his real name, Richard Daniels. Alex pulled open the A-E drawer, gritting her teeth as the drawer screeched, metal grinding on metal.

Shaz materialised at her elbow. "I'd have got this for you, Boss."

"I know, Shaz, I'm just eager to get going.' She flicked through files. 'Cruthers… Daily… Darcy… Dean… Depford…" She searched again. And again. "Jesus, it's not here..." She rifled through the files once more.

"It must be. I put it there myself." Shaz nudged Alex out of the way and looked. After a few minutes her large eyes fixed on her anxious D.I. "It's gone."

Alex felt sick. Calling Viv in, she asked to see the log. "Who's had access to this cabinet over the past few months?"

"No file leaves that cabinet without me knowing about it," said Viv, almost personally affronted.

"So who's taken it?" She raised a hand in apology for her sharp tone. "Sorry, Viv, but it's important."

He brought the log, and they went through it even though Alex knew that the answer wouldn't be there. Another trail had just gone cold, unless…

"Shaz? Chris was following up on a number plate to do with this Daniels info, right?" She hurried back to CID with Shaz in her wake. "Chris? Richard Daniels – where did you put the vehicle check information?"

Chris thought for a moment. "With the other stuff."

"_Shit_." Alex knew now that they had nothing. Everything on Tricky Dick was gone.

.oOo.


	12. Alex Court: Part 1

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: A big thank you to Lucida Bright for her invaluable beta-ing services - I wouldn't post anything unless her trusty blue pencil gave it the twice over. Also, thanks to all of you who continue to review and give support.

* * *

**Alex Court: Part 1**

There was consternation in the office at the news of the missing file. Alex felt bad for Shaz and put a hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"It's not a reflection on you, Shaz."

"Thanks, Boss," came Shaz's dejected reply. She knew that Sergeant James wouldn't look too favourably on a file going missing.

"Should we call the Super, Boss?" asked Ray.

Alex rubbed her forehead, another headache threatening. Gene took the day off so that he could finish hanging wallpaper in his spare room. They had agreed on a plain grey striped paper that would be 'easy to match' and so far, it had proved anything but. One thing was certain, if the wallpaper paste didn't keep the paper up, the expletives would. No, it wouldn't be sensible to disturb him, especially with bad news.

"There's nothing he could do," she said glumly.

"Agreed," said Capplan. "Let the man have a day off. Now, some bastard's taken a confidential file from this station and we need to know who. Viv? Anything?"

"Nothing, Guv. The only people who've accessed the snout files in the time period in question have been WPC Granger and yourself. Superintendent Hunt arranged it that way. He knew that if Shaz looked after the files, nothing would be misfiled or lost."

Tears glittered in Shaz's eyes.

"This is not your fault, Shaz," said Capplan. "First up, Chris, what work did you do with that reg plate?"

"I sent it to vehicle licensing and they sent the list back but I didn't have a chance to look at it."

"Do you remember what the plate was?" Alex asked, hoping against hope.

Chris shook his head. "Sorry, Boss. Everything was metal then – I can't remember. I do know it was only a partial plate, though."

Alex's shoulders slumped as she sat in behind her desk. "I don't believe this. We got solid info and it's just vanished into thin air. Daniels won't tell us that stuff a second time. We can't trace what we had. We don't even _know_ what we had. Dammit!"

Shaz spoke up. "There is one thing we can do. Ask the vehicle records people if they have a record of what they sent us."

Capplan clapped Shaz on the back. "Well done, Granger. Okay, work with Skelton. We know roughly when the info went for checking – you narrow the dates down and see what comes back. You never know, we make strike it lucky."

.oOo.

The following morning, bedroom finally papered and wallpaper paste finally out of his hair in more ways than one, Gene was eager to get in to Fenchurch. Alex had filled him in on what had happened and he was not a happy man. Pushing through the doors into CID, he yelled for Ray.

Chris appeared from the kitchenette. "He's in the bog, Sir."

"Get your jacket, Chris, we're going out just as soon as Crapping Carling returns."

"All right, Crane?" he asked, turning to the observant DI.

"Yes, Sir. Nothing major is happening at the moment, apart from the Daniels stuff. The Guv stepped out about ten minutes ago – do you want me to call him for you?"

"No. I need these two twats for an hour and I'll return them in more or less same condition I got them in." He saw Ray sauntering down the corridor. "Raymondo! Get your arse in gear. We're going out."

That was music to Ray's ears. "Where're we heading, Guv?"

"To see our pet nonce. Move it!" Gene swept his hands in the direction of the doors and both detectives moved it. He met Alex's eyes on the way out the door and, giving her a look, he inclined his head slightly towards Crane before leaving.

She had no idea what he was getting at and the swinging doors behind him gave no clue.

.oOo.

Once underway, Gene filled them in. "Ray, you're with me and don't so much as twitch unless I give you the nod. Chris, you hang around outside near the back office and be invisible. When we're gone, I'll bet Tricky makes a phone call and if he does, you listen carefully. Then get your arse back to the station. Clear?"

"Clear, Sir," said Chris eagerly.

"Clear, Guv."

Gene resisted correcting Ray – he'd been Guv to this pair for far too long and he really didn't care if they called him Guv or Sir. He might have to mention it to Andy Capp as "The Guv" was a badge of honour. It wouldn't be fair on the man, who had more than earned his stripes. After all, he didn't pick Capplan for the job for nothing.

Pulling up outside Tricky's crumbling garage, the detectives spilled from the car.

"Mr Daniels!" bellowed Gene at Tricky Dick's legs. The rest of him was under a black taxi.

The roar caused Daniels to jump and smash his head on the sump.

"Argh, you stupid _fuck_! _Fuck_ it!" came the agonised cries of pain as he scooted the mechanic's trolley forward, clutching his head. "I'll _fucking_ have you – oh."

"That's a lot of big fucks from such a little fuck," said Gene calmly, glaring down at the supine mechanic.

Tricky scrambled to his feet. "Mr Hunt, Sir. I - I - no news, Sir."

"There's always news, Daniels," replied Gene, "and I want you to tell me whose payroll you were on before my time."

"Payroll? I've always had my garage -"

Gene barely glanced at Ray, who then muscled forward, the threat of menace evident. "Answer Mr Hunt properly when he asks you a question. Whose snout were you?"

Tricky shook his head. "I weren't a snout. I swear."

Gene gave Ray a nod and Ray stepped back. Fiddling with a lighter, Gene's icy calmness was far more menacing than Ray's threat of violence. "You swear, do you? Come on, Daniels. You were about to be sent down for a fifteen-year stretch, yet you somehow managed to walk away scot-free. Someone had a vested interest in keeping you out of jail. Give me the name."

Tricky sneered at them, puffed out his chest but stuffed his shaking hands into the pockets of his overalls. "I don't have a name, Mr Hunt. If someone wanted to keep me out of prison, they never told me. And you should watch your bouncer – he so much as lays a finger on me, I'll report the lot of you to your Super. I'm not afraid of you and I'll show anyone the bruises you give me."

Gene chose not enlighten the man that his threat was null and void. "I do watch my men. And they're going to be watching you, _Dick,_ very, very closely. You so much as fart and someone will do you for environmental pollution. You're lying to me and I do not take kindly to that."

"You're all pigs," muttered Daniels. It was his last coherent thought before his eyes poured water; he clutched at his groin, gasping.

"There'll be no bruise there, pal," snarled Gene. "Just a little taster for tomorrow when I'll be back. I suggest you get your brain in gear and remember who you worked for. Now, back to work," he shoved Tricky backwards and the man landed on the trolley with a bang, followed by a howl of pain as tender areas got another assault, this time from his carelessly placed hammer.

"Oh dear me. Bashed yourself on the balls, Dick?" queried Gene. "You want to be careful. In future, tidy up after yourself, you messy little fucker."

.oOo.

Gene slammed the driver's door shut and hoped Chris would remember to stay well hidden. "Not much of a result but Christ, that felt good."

Ray grinned. "Just like old times, eh, Guv?"

"Just like old times," repeated Gene, lighting a fag after he started the car. "Like lots of things."

Ray didn't follow. "What things?"

"You. Fucking up again because you feel paperwork is beneath you." He threw the car into reverse and then spun it around before speeding back towards Fenchurch.

"It weren't my paperwork -" he began.

"Yeah, it was Chris's. And you're his sergeant," interrupted Gene. "I know everything we had on Tricky ended up in the snout file because you told Chris to put it there."

Ray had the sense not to argue, especially not when the Guv was right. "I'll put it right, Guv."

"You better believe you will and you're not getting any overtime for it either. The next time a DC prepares a vehicle cross check, you better remember it's your responsibility to prepare the case file. There's a fucking reason why follow up information is kept separate from the snout files and you know it. You screw up on paperwork like that again and I'll make you chew your own bollocks off. You got me, Raymondo?" said Gene, deadly serious.

"Yes, Guv." It had been too long since he'd been anywhere with his Guv and he'd take the rebuke. He didn't know how he could put things right but he was certain that if any mistakes were made in this investigation from now on, they wouldn't be his.

.oOo.

That evening, before Gene came home, there was a loud knock at the front door just as Alex was scrubbing potatoes for supper. With a sigh, she dried her hands and went to answer it, opening the door to a blonde woman about her own age.

"Oh..." said the woman and checked a bit of paper in her hand again. "Does Gene Hunt live here?"

"Yes but he's not here at the moment."

The woman looked her up and down. "You're DI Alexandra Drake." It wasn't a question.

"Yes…" Alex wasn't prepared for that.

"I'm Jackie Queen," she said, her eyebrow arching.

"Ah – yes. Good to put a face to a name," replied Alex. The hell it was - she didn't want this woman in their home.

"Could you give this to Gene for me? It's the information he wanted." Jackie handed Alex an envelope. "Tell him... no, doesn't matter."

Whatever she might feel, Alex knew that Gene needed to talk to Jackie. "Do you want to come in?"

"If he wants me, he knows where to find me. Goodbye."

"Ms Queen, could I ask you something?"

Jackie turned back. "It's Jackie. What?"

"Where did you get this information?"

Seeing genuine worry on Alex's face, Jackie relented with a sigh and walked back towards the house.

Alex waved her inside and hoped that Jackie would make it snappy. She didn't want Gene and Jackie clashing here. She didn't even want to see them together.

"Very nice," commented Jackie looking around at the house as she followed Alex through to the kitchen. "Have you and Gene been here long?"

"A while," said Alex and turned the kettle on. "Would you prefer tea or-"

"No, thanks. Ask me whatever it is you want to know so I can leave."

Alex didn't argue. "Can I read this?" She held up the envelope.

Jackie nodded and Alex opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper, reading it quickly. "Is that it?"

"That's it."

"Where did you get this?"

"Overheard it;. I was doing a writers walk around London and went into The Prospect of Whitby, on Wapping Wall. Dickens used to frequent –.'

"Don't need the travelogue, thanks." Alex was getting impatient.

Jackie bridled. "All right, keep your hair on. I overheard these two men talking. One big bloke and a little ratty one. They said something about queen or doing it the queen's way. You know when you hear your own name mentioned? After a while, they got a bit rowdy about some car in a garage and the landlord kicked them out. So I followed them."

"You followed them?" asked Alex, impressed by the blonde woman's fearlessness.

Jackie shrugged. "Of course. Investigative journalists who sit on their arses in the office get damn all. So, I followed them to the corner of Prusom Street where the big bloke made a phone call from the box near the paper stand. I listened in and that's what I heard. It was the best I could do while pretending to buy a magazine and talk to the seller at the same time." She nodded at the bit of paper Alex was holding.

"You told Gene that your informant said everything you needed for your story could be found 'in Alex's court'."

"Poetic licence," said Jackie, looking utterly unconcerned. "I knew he never meet me otherwise. But I know when something smells rotten and whatever those two blokes were planning, it was rotten. Alex Court is central to all of this and with a little bit of digging, I happened across your name. Then I wondered if-"

"I know what you wondered," interrupted Alex, not knowing if she should be angry or concerned. "Have you been back there?"

"Yes, went back to the pub and sniffed around Prusom Street. Nothing – except I could've sworn I saw the little guy scurrying from the King & Crown one evening. He'd vanished before I could catch up with him."

"What do you think this means?" asked Alex, gesturing to the note in her hands.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "Have you got anything else that could help us?"

Her use of the word _us_ was not lost on Jackie. "Nothing. Have you got anything that could help me?"

"Nothing."

"Thought as much. By the way, I expect first dibs on the story if you unearth something."

"It's not my call but fair's fair and all that. Actually…" Alex reached across for her briefcase. "Could you look at a photograph for me?" She opened a file and withdrew a recent photograph of Tricky Dick that Gene had somehow unearthed. "Is this one of the men you saw?"

"Yeah! That's him – little ratty chap. I never got a good look at the big man – all I can say is that he wore a long black coat with the collar turned up, and he wore a trilby. Who is this guy?"

"Richard Daniels – he owns a garage on Prusom Street." She kept her excitement to herself. They were trying to secure a phone tap on Tricky Dick's line. Chris had overheard him making a call about Gene's visit and had told them that Tricky had sounded nervous to say the very least. With Jackie's information linking back to Tricky, Alex knew they were on to something big. Maybe huge.

Jackie looked at her intently. "Anything else you can share? I mean, you just happen to have a photo of the man I'm talking about in your briefcase. That's strikingly… odd."

Alex shrugged. "Nothing much. Richard Daniels gave us a tip off about a stolen vehicle some time ago and I've been trying to follow up on it. You might've overheard him setting up a deal about another stolen vehicle. I really don't know what we have." Honesty was the best policy here. Alex had already twigged that Jackie was no fool. If she lied, Jackie would suspect something was up and would never talk to them again. After all the cryptic clues to date it was time to cut out the bullshit and get to work.

Jackie gave a small smile. "You're quite the straight talker, aren't you?"

"I find it helps."

"I can see why Gene is with you." She checked her watch again. "Is he always home this late? Christ, I don't know how you put up with his late hours."

Alex's eyes narrowed fractionally at the obvious attempt to make her concerned about Gene's 'late hours'. "If you want to see him that badly, you know where to find him."

"I do," she said with a knowing smile. "Right, well, I'd best be off. I'll be in touch, Alex."

The air was getting decidedly chilly. "Of course," said Alex and showed Jackie out. "Thank you for this."

She watched Jackie walk down the road as if she hadn't a care in the world. Alex wasn't so carefree and she closed the door behind her with a sigh and looked at the note again. She picked up the phone and rang Gene's office; glad to catch him just before he left.

Ten minutes later she was waiting on the tube on her way back to Fenchurch.

.oOo.

"What... the... fuck..." muttered Gene, turning Jackie's note over in his hands. "She's either on drugs or mad as a loon. Or both." He sighed and passed the note back to Alex.

Alex read aloud from it for the benefit of the others. "_Mid land__ in the glade beneath the magic roundabout. Bring the package to Alex Court where Dougal is and he'll sort it. No, Alex Court is central. Yes, everything moves through a most reliable network thanks to our man inside._"

"This? This _bollocks_ is what she runs rings around me for?" Gene got to his feet and stalked off to the kitchen. "Tricky Dick, Magic Roundabouts and Dougal? What next? Zebedee and fucking Ermintrude?"

Alex rubbed her forehead in frustration. "It's a code based on the Magic Roundabout." She ignored Gene's loud snort of derision. "Chris? Whiteboard." She also ignored the weary groans and sighs from the assembled officers.

Chris pushed a whiteboard into place and Alex wrote the statement up. "This thing that's 'in the glade', let's call it -"

"Drugs," said Ray, a glum look on his face.

"Except it might not be drugs and we shouldn't assume anything," corrected Alex. "Let's call it -"

"Swag," interrupted Gene, keen to cut to the chase. "Whatever's in that package, they don't have a receipt for it."

Alex wrote SWAG on the board. "This swag is in the glade beneath the Magic Roundabout. Someone is to retrieve the swagand then give it to Dougal in Alex Court. This Dougal will 'sort and send' the swag through a 'most reliable network'. This reliable network seems to have been arranged by man inside the network _or_-"

"A man inside," said Chris. "A bloke who's banged up. In prison."

"Alex, if I may?" asked Crane. "Seeing as how this is associated with Tricky Dick and we know that he was helping to fence stolen jewellery with a little drug smuggling thrown in for fun, could we not assume that the swag is jewels? Isn't this what's behind all these armed blags?"

"We can't make assumptions on this case," said Gene, somewhat impatiently. Didn't Crane listen?

"Mr Hunt is correct," said Alex. "Let's do this one step at a time. We need to link the Magic Roundabout and a glade. Divide up into teams and each team take a heading. Historical links. Children's stories. Geography…" She bit her lip as she wrote the headings on the board, thinking.

"Religious references," said Gene; Alex wrote it up. They had ten headings by the time they were done and Alex gave them 48 hours to do their research. Reminding everyone to keep the entire conversation with Tricky Dick and his source in mind, Gene dismissed everyone for the night.

.oOo.

"You okay?" came Gene's voice from the darkness.

"Yes," she replied and rolled over to face him. "Couldn't sleep – everything's buzzing in my brain."

"That's what you get for being a busy bee, Bolly," he said and slid an arm around her. "Did Jackie say anything else to you?"

"No – I kept the conversation short."

He looked down at her. "Not a fan?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Hardly. She's one tough woman, though. I'll give her that."

He chuckled. "It takes one to know one."

She didn't say anything further. Tough, ballsy women – obviously they were his type. She hadn't thought about Gene's type of woman before and it irked her slightly to think that she could be pigeon-holed.

"Give over," he rumbled. "You're both tough and mouthy but the similarities end there. There's nobody like my Bolly." He kissed her forehead. "Try to sleep, love. Tomorrow's going to be hectic."

"Hmmm," she replied in agreement and tucked herself closer to him. "You okay too?"

"Yes. But I want to find out what this Alex Court bullshit is about tomorrow. Want you in the clear."

"Me too." She cuddled into his chest and closed her eyes.

He wrapped both arms tightly around her and hugged her. Then, releasing her, he cupped her face in her hands and kissed her gently. "I couldn't stand it if this Alex Court thing was about you. I told you I'd never put you in a cage and I wouldn't - you're free to do whatever you want to do but…" he broke off and kissed her again but was unable to ask.

"But what?" she asked. "Gene, I would never do anything foolish. Not now – not when I've got my life with you."

"You keep your wing mirrors clear, Bolly and be aware of the people around you. There's no accounting for nutters."

She smiled. "Nowt as queer as folk, eh, Shirley?"

The got a laugh from him. "Stop it. You can't do a Northern accent."

"I can, and all."

He snorted another laugh against her shoulder.

"I'll be careful, my love. Of course I will," she whispered into his ear. "I _love_ you. You are my first and last thought and you always will be."

He eased himself on top of her, finding familiar comfort in her arms. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"Looks like I'm the one about to get lucky," she said, grinning up at him.

He moved down slowly, kissing as he went and losing himself in making her sigh and gasp as he sucked at a nipple.

There was a thump from the front door.

He rolled off her and Alex sat up. "What -"

Gene leapt out of bed and threw on the first clothes to hand.

"Gene, wait for me," she hissed and clambered into leggings and tee-shirt before following him.

There was another knock and Gene reached for her hand, eyes never leaving the door. "Alex, get my gun from the bedr-"

Another impatient knock. "Open up, Gene," came a gruff whisper. "It's me."

"Bloody hell." Gene breathed in relief and immediately ran down the stairs and opened the door as Alex peered around his shoulder.

"Andy?" she asked, stunned to see her DCI at 4am.

"What's happened?" asked Gene, ushering the man inside.

"Tricky Dick is dead."

**~x~X~ To be continued ~X~x~**


	13. Alex Court: Part 2

**A Town Like Alex**

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I'm only using characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them.

**Author's note**: A big thank you to Lucida Bright for her invaluable beta-ing services - if this hadn't taken me so long to finish, she'd have done her usual sterling job. So, typos, mistakes and Alex / Gene / etc sounding like they're Dubs? That's all me. Many thanks to all of you who continue to review and give support. It's tough to even find the inspiration to write this any more, so your lovely reviews keep me going. Let's hope tomorrow doesn't kill off my muse to finish the final chapter. Okay - plenty going on here in this so I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**Alex Court: Part 2**

Capplan followed them into the kitchen. "He was found under a taxi in the garage. It fell on him."

"You're _shitting_ me," said Gene. "Squashed?"

"Squashed," replied Andy. "The front jack collapsed and it's not pretty."

"He never was."

Alex gave his ankle a light tap with her foot. "Did the jack collapse or was it helped?"

"Don't know," said Capplan. "But I'd say helped. We'll know soon as SOCO are there now."

Gene looked thoughtful. "He kept that garage and his tools in a right state. It's not inconceivable that a jack gave way but..."

"But it's damn convenient," finished Alex.

"It's tough, Gene. Especially as he'd probably have coughed up a name tomorrow." Capplan heaved a sigh and propped his head up with his fist.

"It's like Bolly said – it's too damn convenient for a taxi to drop on Tricky a few hours before I'd see him again."

Alex looked up, anxious all of a sudden. "You don't think anyone will try to pin this on you, do you?"

Gene shrugged. "They can try if they want too but they won't get very far."

"You better believe it," chimed in Capplan.

Her gazed flicked between the two men. "What's going on?"

Gene grinned at her. "I've had my own personal watchdog for the while." He nodded towards Capplan.

"What? Why?"

"Can't be too careful, Bolly. Ever since Jackie crawled out from under her rock, Capplan has been watching my back. If I go anywhere, I give ol' Andy here a bell and he heads off about ten minutes before me. He keeps an eye out before, during and after and then reports back. He's watched to see who shows up and when – even when I met Jackie for lunch."

Alex smiled at Gene and threaded her fingers through his. The moment stretched and Capplan felt like a spare wheel. "Right, I'd best be off before my wife locks me out of the house permanently," he said, getting to his feet. "Just thought you should hear it from me rather than Internal Inquiries knocking on the door, should they be so inclined."

"Too right," said Gene, getting to his feet. "Thanks, Andy. For everything. There'll be a follow up on this later but for now, go home and get some well deserved kip."

Capplan said his goodbyes and Alex and Gene went back to bed, their previous passion quenched by the news of Tricky's death.

"So, you really have been careful, then?" she asked lightly, as they curled up together.

"I promised you I would be," he said simply. "No more heading off without backup. Something stinks about this whole thing, Bolly. Can't be too careful."

"Keeping your wing mirrors clean?"

"Always."

She smiled in the darkness and kissed one of his hands before tucking it under her cheek. "I've got your back too, Guv."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, Drake," he replied, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Best bodyguard I ever had. Goes both ways, an' all."

She kissed him lightly. "I know. Love you."

He grunted and hugged her close. "I love you too. Night, sweetheart." He felt her sleepy murmur vibrate against his chest and he smiled. Bodyguard and heartwarmer. She was quite a catch, was his Bolly. He thought about the little, tattered matchbox in his bedside drawer with her resized ring which he'd picked up as a surprise; soon he'd give it back to her and maybe something else to match it.

~o~

The following day, everyone was on tenterhooks as they waited for the SOCO report to come back on Tricky's garage. The pathologist was dragging his heels over a post-mortem; not that they needed confirmation of death as Tricky's crushed skull was a rather clear indicator but a time frame would be nice. Or maybe even a hint of alcohol or drugs. But the lazy bastard was taking his own sweet time and hassling him further would mean even slower progress.

Gene was pacing around his office, irritated with the wait and even more irritated that yet again, the investigation had taken another set back. It seemed to him that this case was one where they took a small step forward only to then leap back like Arsenal's defence in an off-side trap. On top of all this, he was tired, fed up and badly wanted to take himself and Alex out of the game for a few days. Their hours were long and difficult and he saw dark circles under her eyes this morning. If she went through much more of this, she'd end up with another one of her migraines and she had been doing so well after the last one.

Suddenly, he jumped as his door practically exploded inwards, spilling Chris, Capplan, Ray and Alex.

"Guv!"

"Sir, look at this-"

"Oi, oi, oi, _oi_!" he cried and clapped his hands together. "One thing at a time, sweet Jesus. Chris, what?"

Chris was almost hopping from one foot to another. "Sir, look. I found my notebook – the one I used when we went to see Tricky Dick the first time." He pressed the notebook into Gene's hands. "Look what it says."

Gene focused on the opened page. There, underneath a piss poor doodle of the Millennium Falcon, was _TD prtl plte yoi qry._ He needed a translator. "Do I look Welsh?"

Chris obliged. "Tricky Dick, partial plate YOI query."

Gene's eyes lit up. "You mean -"

"The file may be gone, Sir but we still have a record of the plate. The notebook was in my old jacket pocket."

"Christopher, how is it that you manage to be a pillock in all the right ways!" Gene batted Chris's head with the notebook and then almost knocked Chris over with a hearty thump of gratitude to the upper arm. "Now what's all this other stuff then?"

Capplan stepped up and handed Gene a report. "Sir, at the Isle of Dogs development site, a bag was pulled from the Thames and it contains five fake registration plates. Now, we have no way of knowing if they came from Tricky's garage but it seems highly likely because SOCO have just told me that they've found torn tax disks underneath Tricky's office. They'd been shredded to pieces and shoved through the floorboards. Considering that we've known Tricky was up do decidedly dodgy things in the past, this wasn't entirely unexpected but SOCO have pieced them together as best they can and they reckon they've got five."

Gene gave a slow whistle. "Well, well, well - looks like someone was about to be a very busy little scrote before the taxi flattened him. Five fake plates, possibly five original tax disks _and_ the original partial plate. If we sent that partial plate down to vehicle records right now, how long would it take them to get back to us?"

"If we went personally and waited, pulling in all the favours they owe us, we could find out very soon."

"Okay, let's do that." He looked at Capplan. _Your call._

"Right, Drake and Skelton, take a car and go," ordered Capplan. "Don't come back until you have an answer. Carling, you go down to the Isle of Dogs and get those plates."

"Yes, Guv," replied Alex and dangled a key from her right hand, catching Gene's eye.

He nodded and gave her a wink as she left with the others. At least if she took the Quattro, she'd get there and back quicker.

~o~

While they waited for the three detectives to return, Gene went down to CID and looked through the progress to date. He flicked through a file on Alex's desk. "Anything further on Alex Court? Or in deciphering Jackie's note?"

"Nothing yet, Sir," said Capplan. "But we could always work on it while we're waiting for the others."

"May as well," said Gene, swinging his chair around towards the whiteboard and tossing a marker at Shaz. "Okay, Granger. What've we got?"

For the next two hours, they all picked apart Jackie's note and tried anagrams, different spellings and different meanings.

_Mid land in the glade; magic roundabout; Alex Court; Dougal; a most reliable network; our man inside_

Gene was certain he'd be dreaming about this bloody thing; the tantalising clues kept just out of reach. David Crane didn't help matters by dragging ever-increasing sized dictionaries out and looking things up. There was something about the younger man that pissed Gene off and he couldn't exactly put his finger on it.

He shoved his suspicions about Crane to one side and tried to focus on what they were discussing. The fax machine whirred to life in the corner and Capplan's phone rang. He leapt up to answer it, as Alex might call with information from vehicle records. Gene watched him closely as the expression on his face changed from expectant to downright worry. Capplan clicked his fingers in the direction of the fax machine and when Shaz didn't move quickly enough, he gestured frantically towards Gene while taking down details from his phone call.

Shaz snatched the bit of paper from the tray and thrust it towards Gene who scanned it. His face went pale.

"Sir?" she queried, seeing trouble.

Gene looked up and met Capplan's eyes.

Shaz glanced between the two and Crane got to his feet. "What's happened?"

"Patrick O'Brien topped himself in Strangeways. Left a note for Gene."

Gene read aloud from the fax in his hand. "_I'm done with this. Stay away from my family Hunt_."

What the fuck?" whispered an incredulous Crane. "O'Brien's _dead_?"

Gene could only nod as the doors to CID burst open, revealing a breathless Alex and Chris.

Alex spoke first, not noticing the sombre air. "YOI is a plate from Northern Ireland! Belfast to be exact."

"Northern Ireland?" asked Gene.

"Yes."

"Bolly… Patrick O'Brien just killed himself."

Alex gaped at him, completely shocked and was unable to speak. Chris sat heavily into his chair.

"What the _fuck_ have we stepped in?" asked Gene but nobody could answer him.

~o~

CID was a sombre place for the next few hours as everyone tried to process the various bits of news. Finding Chris's notebook should have been the best breakthrough this case got since the whole thing started but instead, O'Brien's death overshadowed it and worse, seemed to hint towards a possible link to this case. Northern Ireland. Gene heaved a large sigh and walked out of CID.

Ray, who had returned with the five fake registration plates, looked over at Alex.

"Give him a few minutes alone," she said softly.

Ray nodded, his face glum. "All that work we did, Boss, and for what? O'Brien tops himself and now there'll never be a trial."

"I know, Ray," she said, feeling sick over the whole thing. "If only he hadn't been on remand for this length of time but…"

"That's what they do with these IRA bastards," added Chris, his voice bitter.

Ray glared at him. "O'Brien wasn't IRA, twonk."

"I know! I-"

"Oh, give it a rest," snapped Alex and propped her head up with her hands. "This isn't helping." She got up and followed Gene out of CID. She decided to check his office first and met Viv in the corridor.

"Boss? I know this is the last thing on your mind right now, but I've got in all those street maps you wanted to look for Alex Court?" he prompted, as Alex was looking at him blankly.

"Oh! Right, yes, Viv, sorry. I… I…"

"Tomorrow, Boss. I reckon there's enough to deal with right now, huh?" He squeezed her shoulder in support. "Don't worry. It'll all work out."

She gave him a sad smile. "I hope you're right."

~o~

Alex continued on her way up to Gene's office and sure enough, he was there, staring out the window with his hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly bowed. Alex heart ached for him and she knew that he would take this badly. She closed the door behind her and moved beside him, slipping an arm around his waist. "What happened?" He handed her the crumpled fax and she scanned through it for the essentials. "He hung himself with his bed sheets."

Gene ran a hand though his hair. "What's going on, Alex? What's… why do I feel like everything is falling apart? What am I not seeing? What does someone not want me to see? Why the _hell_ would O'Brien think I'd be anywhere near his family?"

She smoothed out the deep frown between his eyes. "We'll figure it out, love."

He gave a defeated sigh and dropped his head to her shoulder. They stood in comforting silence for a few minutes until Alex gave his head a nudge. "Stand tall, Guv."

"What?" he murmured.

She put both hands on his shoulders and turned him so he was facing her. Then she gave him a small shake. "Stand tall, Guv. We're going to figure this out but first, don't give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing you like this. This is one cool customer we're dealing with here. Whoever it is, he knows a lot about you and knows how to push your buttons. Don't give in to it."

He considered her words. "Give in? You must be joking, Bolls. I'm just recharging my batteries and by the time I'm done, this fuck will wish he was never born. You thought dropping a taxi on someone made a mess? He won't know what hit him when I land on him."

"Squashed?"

"Squashed so flat he'll have to stick his toothbrush up his arse to clean what's left of his teeth."

"And you're back," she smiled. "Okay, for now, come back down to CID. Everyone is miserable and I think-"

"I think some lunch is in order."

She linked her arm through his. "Well then… Luigi's awaits."

~o~

Later, Gene sat alone in his office. He'd sent everyone home about an hour earlier, including Alex. Luigi's liquid lunch had helped but the air of disappointment in CID was palpable. He needed time to think on his own, time to try and see through the murky waters around him. He had requested a number of files Strangeways and they were going to arrive by special delivery in the morning. He wondered if they'd shed any light on O'Brien thoughts or was he just going to waste his time on all of this bollocks yet.

He tapped his pen against his forehead and tried to make sense of it all. Nobody had initially followed up on the YOI reg plate and then, Tricky Dick's entire file went missing. Now Tricky was dead and O'Brien too. Were the two deaths related? And if so, how? Gene was getting brainache.

His eyes focused on O'Brien's note. What the fuck was that mad gobshite on about now? At least this time he'd done the decent thing and written his stupid note in English. Probably fancied himself as another starved martyr for the fucking cause. Gene drummed his fingers on his desk. He couldn't figure out why O'Brien would think that anything would happen to his family. He needed something, anything, that would give him an insight into O'Brien's thoughts and he wished he could talk to the man...

His head snapped up. He had O'Brien's own words in a box in the evidence room. In fact, everything they had on O'Brien was just sitting there where anyone could help themselves. Slamming out of his office, Gene leapt down the stairs two at a time and burst into the evidence room. Navigating through the various boxes, he searched for O. Nothing. Maybe it was under B. Nothing there too. Gene's stomach lurched. _No, no, no, no! _He went through each shelf, looking at all the boxes, but there was no sign of O'Brien's case. Forcing himself to be calm, he searched again. It wasn't as if the O'Brien case fitted into one box. The material, meticulously recorded and documented, had taken up five large evidence boxes but, after a thorough search, Gene had to admit defeat. It was gone and he was too late.

"_Fuck_ it!"

There was kick and an empty box skidded across the room. Gene heaved a deep breath, fury pulsing through him when he focused on the end of the room. Shaz wouldn't have put it into the open cases, would she? That small glimmer of hope sent him racing to the other end of the room behind the partition and just as he was about to start looking, he glanced at the newly installed partition door next to the shelves across the back wall. Of course! _Of bloody course! _

He could have saved himself all the anguish if he'd just calmed down and not assumed the worst. Alex had reorganised the evidence rooms into cases that were open, closed or court pending. She'd converted a small anteroom as a secure holding area for all the court pending cases, and that's where he found the entire case, all five boxes neatly labelled complete with an inventory of each box on the lid, all prepared for the court case that would now never happen. Not that it mattered any more and Gene made a mental note to kiss the life out her later. He secured the door, entered a new combination into the lock and was about to return to his office when an uneasy thought struck. It wasn't safe enough.

Then, in a series of trips to the Quattro, he stashed the whole lot safely in the boot and relished the drive home on the abandoned late night streets. After all, there was no point in having a flashing blue light if you couldn't use it for a bit of fun now and again. Anyway, he really wanted to get home. Maybe Alex would've used that new cream that made her smell like flowery ice cream; delicious on warm, soft skin. He stepped on the accelerator again and screeched around a corner, blowing a taxi out of it for daring to cross his path. Pulling up outside the house, he hurried back and forth, unloading the boxes and piling them in the hall.

"Gene?" came Alex's sleepy voice from the top of the stairs.

"Evening, Princess Dopey," he grinned up at her. "Sorry for waking you, love but I need a hand here."

"What are you doing?" she asked with a yawn, coming down the stairs as she belted her robe.

"Hiding evidence."

"What? _Gene_!"

"Don't freak," he said, smiling at her. "I'm hiding it to keep it safe in case it goes AWOL too. With O'Brien dead, I want this case kept away from the station. It's all we have."

"What'll we do with it?" she asked in hushed tones, eyeing the five large boxes. "If someone wanted it, they would've taken it before now."

"If they could find it. Tell me, Bolls - exactly how many evidence room are organised into 'case closed', 'case open' and a little 'court pending' room?"

"Only Fenchurch, as far as I know."

"Precisely. I nearly gave myself a heart attack when I went looking for this stuff. Until I remembered what you'd done with it. What if someone has already had a bit of a snoop but found nothing? Or didn't have time to find out the combination for the lock?"

"Good point." She heaved a sigh and eyed the boxes warily. "We can't keep it here, Gene. It's too dangerous, plus we don't have anywhere to hide this amount of stuff without it being obvious."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "That's where you're wrong, Bolls. Come with me."

Mystified, she followed him through the kitchen and out into the garden. Gene quietly lifted the dustbins onto the lawn so they wouldn't rattle. Then, he grasped a manhole cover and heaved. She stood back, not wanting to see what was down in the sewers. Gene waved a hand towards the uncovered hole.

"Have a look, Bolly. It's not what you think."

Cautiously, she peered into the ground and then laughed quietly. "You are kidding me! An air raid shelter."

"One of the benefits in buying a house that survived the blitz," he replied as he clambered down the steps, batting at cobwebs as he went. She heard him clanking around and then there was a flare of light as a gas camping lamp spluttered into action. "Give me your hand," he said, reaching up to her.

She gripped his hand tightly as she descended the steep rickety steps and soon found herself in the cramped, musty but curiously cosy shelter. "This is _brilliant_."

Gene couldn't stand up straight but he looked around the little room with satisfaction. "Perfect, huh? It's not one bit damp either – they built it really well. Watch your head, Bolly!" he exclaimed, seeing Alex was about to smack the back of her head off a low beam. "This place wasn't built for tall people." He sat on a low bench and pulled her down beside him.

Alex shivered. "I bet there are lots of spiders in here."

"Oh, absolutely. Loads of them," he agreed and smiled as she hurriedly drew her feet up off the floor. "Come on, Spiderwoman, let's get those boxes stashed."

It took them about 15 minutes before everything was secreted away. Gene carefully lowered the cast iron cover and manoeuvred the bins back into place as quietly as he could.

Alex smiled at him when he followed her into the kitchen. "You're never out of ideas, are you?"

"Frequently, Bolls. I just manage to cover it up well," he said, grinning at her as he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

She snorted and wafted the smoke away from her. "Can I get you anything? Tea?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's three in the morning. You go back to bed - I'll be up soon."

"Did you even have supper?"

He scratched at his cheek thoughtfully. "Don't think so."

"Then let me get you something now," she replied, running a hand through his hair. "You must be starving."

"It's okay, Bolls. I am capable of rustling up something for mys-"

She stopped his mouth with a kiss. "Chunky marmalade toastie?"

He gave her a slow smile. "I'd kill for one."

"Thought as much. Okay. Boots – off."

He held up one foot to her and she tugged the boot free, repeating the process with the other. Then she bustled about while he smoked the last of his cigarette, eyes glittering as he watched her. In no time, a steaming mug of tea appeared alongside his toasties. She even gave him the marmalade pot, so he could fish out extra thick bits of peel that he loved. They talked as he ate and once he was done, she ushered him out the door and sent him to have a shower. By the time he was ready, Alex had everything tidied up and was waiting in bed. Gene flumped down beside her with a contented yawn.

"You spoil me, Bolly," he sighed, putting an arm around her and breathing in deeply. She was wearing her flowery ice cream. Nice.

"Good," she replied softly. "You too, so fair's fair."

"No, I don't," he contradicted.

"Of course you do," she whispered. "And I love you for it. I like being able to help you out too, especially when it's 3am, you've had no supper and you're knackered."

He gave a quiet chuckle and traced a finger down her cheek and over her lips. "You are _such_ a soft touch."

"Don't you breath a word to anyone. I'm a tough nut, me."

"Tough nutter," he mumbled, sotto voce. "_Ow_!"

"Serves you right," she replied but nevertheless, kissed the finger she had just nipped.

He grunted and hugged her closer. "My girl."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

He dropped a kiss into her hair. "'Course you do, Bolly. Actually, I'm feeling a bit randy. Fancy a shag?"

Alex laughed and squealed when his cold hands slipped under her tee shirt.

"Lovely - I'm warming up nicely now," he rumbled, hands settling over her breasts. "Knew you were useful to keep around."

She grasped the hem of her tee shirt, wriggled out of it and flung the garment to the floor. "A shag sounds tolerable, I suppose."

"I'll give you tolerable," he said, rolling her over onto her back. "Right. May as well get this over with."

"Go on then. Don't take all night."

"Couple of minutes, tops," he said, settling between her legs.

"Can't you manage faster?"

"I was thinking you'd enjoy it for once if I took at least three minutes." His eyes were twinkling at her, his laughter barely held in check.

She heaved a long sigh of boredom but couldn't stop a little smile curling at the corner of her mouth. Gene kissed it and she captured his head in her hands so she could kiss him deeply in return.

"Take as long as you like," she breathed against his lips.

"Will do, Bolls," he rumbled, his mouth seeking out the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Mmmm… 'snice…" she whispered.

"Mmm hmm," he agreed, his mouth seeking out the places that made her shiver.

She trailed her hands up and down his back, feeling his muscles and broad shoulders; she loved this, loved being loved.

He kissed her slowly, taking his time to taste and savour. Soft, lazy kisses – exactly what she liked, what _they_ liked. He'd never been a man for this kind of thing but that was then and Alex was now. He wasn't afraid to love her, to make love to her and to enjoy it.

"Tell you what," he breathed.

"What?"

"This is going to last."

She looked up at him and saw in his eyes what he was trying to say. She kissed him again. "I know."

~o~

Normally, they would have spent a leisurely morning in bed as neither of them was due into work until midday but Gene had too much on his mind. He got up around seven and left Alex sleeping. He padded downstairs and decided to listen to the O'Brien tapes; hearing the man's voice might get the old detective juices flowing. He fast-forwarded though all the posturing, bravado and long silences until he finally got to the bit where O'Brien really started to talk. He paid attention to Crane's close questioning and masterful extraction of O'Brien's confession and then the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

"…_You thought your life was complicated when Hunt was around?"_ came Crane's voice. _"You're marked by Special Branch now, Patrick. And not only you... your entire family too. That pretty little ex-wife of yours with the children? Your family in Belfast? All watched."_

"_You leave them out of this! You bastards!"_

"_You gave us no choice, Paddy. You let us think you're in the IRA. What did you think we would do? Nothing? You thought it was funny? You think this is funny?"_

"_No! No! No wait! I'm not in the IRA. My wife and kids, they've got nothing to do with me or anything that's fucked up in this world."_

"_So you say. Why would I believe you? You can see how this must look from our perspective. So you better start talking and explain the whole thing to me. Otherwise I've got some colleagues in the Royal Ulster Constabulary who'd just love to place your smart-mouthed younger brother into Castlerae or another internment camp of my choosing. Maybe the H- Blocks. Would he like a stint on dirty protest or maybe even join in a hunger strike?"_

"_You bastards. You complete and utter bastards. It's not enough that Hunt had to ruin my life, you're going to ruin my family as well?"_

"_You forget, O'Brien. This is all you. Your fault. The degree of the charges against you will depend on your co-operation now."_

Gene sat back in his chair and felt distinctly uneasy; O'Brien's confession had been obtained after his family had been threatened. There was no doubt that O'Brien was guilty but still… it did not sit right with him that O'Brien's wife, children and brother were used against him. He looked again at O'Brien's note and knew that whatever was going on, the man had thought his family were in danger, exactly as Crane had threatened in the interview.

"_I'm done with this. Stay away from my family Hunt"_

It was crystal clear what was going on. Someone had been putting the squeeze on O'Brien and had pretended that Gene himself was in on it. The question was why? He stood up and paced around the room. He could hear Alex in the shower and decided to get their breakfast started. He had the bit between his teeth and didn't want to loose momentum so the sooner they could get into work the better.

Soon, they were ready to go and on the journey into work, Alex wanted to find out what was bothering him as he had been rather quiet all morning. The Quattro thrummed at some traffic lights and Gene, lost in thought, tapped his fingers lightly on the wheel.

"What's wrong, love?" she asked.

He gave a half shrug. "Dunno, Bolls but something doesn't feel right. In here." He slapped his stomach. "It's Crane. There's something… I don't know."

"Gene, you've had a problem with David ever since you thought he might be related to that Tony Crane nutter you knew in Manchester but he's not any sort of relation. David and his family are from good Jewish stock in London and have been for a long time. He's a good man – loyal and dedicated to his wife and kids. He's just not the sort of copper you're used to, that's all."

Gene shook his head. "Sorry, Bolls but I don't buy it. I listened to that tape of him interviewing O'Brien and he threatened the man's family before getting him to confess."

"He was Special Branch back then, Gene. It's what they do and a hell of a lot worse should their mood change. You know that too."

"Doesn't matter. You keep an eye on him for me."

"But-"

"Alex," he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, "please."

"You're barking up the wrong tree with him, Gene but if you want me to keep an eye, then I will."

He swung the car into its customary spot. "Thanks, love. I know he's your friend too so it's not easy."

"Hmmm," she grunted in agreement. "Okay, what's the plan for today then?"

"Very simple, Bolly. I'm waiting on those files from Strageways and you, Capplan, Ray and Viv are going to find Alex Court. Make no assumptions, stick to the facts only and crack this damn thing before we all crack up."

~o~

Alex was working with everyone down in CID about an hour before Gene could extract himself from his office to look at the files from Strangeways, which had arrived by special overnight delivery. When he arrived in CID, Alex was busy in Capplan's office with Viv and Ray. He took a seat at her desk and read through the files, finding nothing particularly remarkable on an initial glance. O'Brien had been a quiet remand prisoner, didn't socialise much and in general, kept himself to himself. He looked up and caught Alex's eye again for what must be the tenth time that morning. He gave her one of his half smiles and she smiled back before answering a question from Ray.

She wondered if she'd always feel like this whenever they saw each other, where everything she felt about him seemed to compress into a split second. It was Gene - handsome, arrogant, kind, decent, infuriating, loving, funny man that he was. Sitting there, twirling his pen around his fingers with a small scowl and customary pout in place, Alex wanted nothing more than for everyone to get out and leave them alone. Her man. Her fiancée. Her eyes closed briefly as she remembered last night; intense was putting it mildly. She had felt incredibly feminine and sexy and he had been insatiable. Now he was sitting twenty feet away looking every bit the Superintendent. Maybe later she-

"DI Drake?" asked Capplan pointedly.

Alex was still staring out at Gene.

"DI Drake? Oh, for Christsakes, _Alex!_" said Capplan, a sharp note to his voice. "West London?"

Alex obviously hadn't been listening. _Shit. West London what?_

"I think it's a good idea," interrupted Ray. "You two take North London and we'll cover the West. Makes sense, right?"

"Right. Yes. It does," she mumbled, grateful for Ray's assistance. She could feel Capplan's eyes on her.

"You're the one who wanted a geographical study, Drake. I'd appreciate your full attention."

"You have it, Guv," she replied. "I was just thinking that it might be an impossible task if we don't start making a few more assumptions about what this note means. Let's look for Alex Court and assume it's the name of a place."

"Superintendent Hunt said -" began Capplan.

"I know what he said, Guv, and he could be right but sometimes we just have to think outside the box. "

"When were we even in the box?" Ray was puzzled.

Capplan sighed. "Okay, so what are we looking for, geographically speaking, if we assume that Alex Court is a place? Any ideas?"

"If we're talking about London, we need a map that's way more detailed than an A-Z," said Viv. "That's already proved not to be up to much when we looked before."

"True. Can't we use the Ordnance Survey maps?" asked Alex.

"Yes, but they don't have a decent index of place names," said Capplan thoughtfully. "Carling? Ideas?"

"Uh-umm..." stammered Ray, his mind a blank.

Alex rescued him as she figured she owed him one. "We could take Ray's suggestion from earlier and ring every division and just ask if they have an Alex Court in their area, Guv. Then we can mark it off the OS maps – OS street maps if we have them. "

"Might be the quickest thing," said Capplan. "Okay, Viv have you got a Met phone book?"

Viv went to retrieve it and Alex moved back to her desk to clear some space so she could get to work with Ray. She spotted a note peaking out from under her stapler with her name scrawled on it in Gene's handwriting.

_Saw you giving me the eye. Am going up to the roof. G x_

Smiling to herself as she tucked the note into her pocket, she figured she had about five minutes before Viv returned and they all hit the phones. She was almost out of breath by the time she pushed open the door to the roof.

~o~

"Gene?"

"Around here, Bolls."

She peaked around the corner and saw him in his usual contemplation spot, the vista that was London spread out before him.

"You took your time," he said, smiling at her.

"And I've only got a few minutes," she said, sliding her arms around his waist. "Saw _you_ eyeing _me_ up earlier."

He kissed her; sipping, tasting, lingering. "Keep thinking about you."

"Me too," she replied, feeling her stomach lurch with excitement and lust. "God, Gene…"

He was kissing her neck and she closed her eyes as her breathing became ragged. "Mmm, Bolly…" he mumbled, knowing they should stop but also knowing it would be impossible to pry himself away from her, his soon-to-be-wife. He kissed her harder.

Alex eventually took a step back and heaved in a steadying breath. "Later, love. We… we…"

"We what?" he asked.

"We need at least two weeks away from this place," she sighed, trying to tamp down her desire. "I can't even look at you without remembering…"

Gene liked the look of her all riled up and flushed. "Remembering us last night? Still got the marks – look." He loosened his tie a bit more and moved the collar of his shirt to one side to revel an unmistakable hickey just below his collarbone. "Nice work, Bolls. Think I remember when it happened. Against the bedroom wall, remember? You were trying not to scream."

Alex's knees felt shaky. "Gene, don't…"

"Don't what? Don't talk about feeling your legs around me? Don't say how good-mumph!"

She silenced him with a passionate kiss as she ran her hands down his back and squeezed his bum, her intentions perfectly clear. "Later, Shirley. Last one home is a rotten egg."

"Guh… Bolls… don't," he breathed against her lips, as he moved her wandering hands away. "Won't be able to walk down the stairs."

"You started it," she teased, blowing warm air into his ear. "See you later, _Sir_." She gave his bum another squeeze.

He rested his hands on the curves of her waist and dropped his head to her shoulder. "How can I let you go? Want to take you to bed right now… want you…"

She tilted his head up and kissed his brow. "You have me, love. Forever."

He kissed her once more. "And you have me."

With a sigh of longing, they released each other and walked back down the stairs again, hands brushing. He stroked her hand in farewell when they reached his floor; one last lingering look and he was gone.

Alex continued down to CID and Capplan shot her a look when she pushed open the doors. "You okay, Alex?"

"Yes, Guv. Isn't Viv back yet?" Alex mentally kicked herself as she hadn't looked in the mirror. She hoped stubble burn wasn't too evident. How embarrassing – caught out for snogging like a teenager behind the bike sheds, or behind the lift maintenance room in her case.

"No – where'd he get too anyway? It's only a bloody-"

Right on cue, Viv pushed open the doors. "I've got four phone books, Guv. More for us to work with."

Soon, they had all the numbers for every station in the Met divided up between the four of them. The got to work and spent the rest of the day on the phones, looking for an Alex Court or very similar equivalent. In the end they had ten Alexandra Courts, ten Alexandra Roads, one Alexander Court, one Alexander Road but no Alex Court.

"We're still going to chase all of these down," said Capplan, hoping to give them some reassurance. "Alex Court might be a tiny alley or block of flats on one of these places. Let's just start there and see what we get."

Viv pulled a large street map of London towards him and picked up a sheet of little red stickers. "I'll do the Alexandra Courts," he said and got to work.

Alex noticed him focusing on the Westminster area and then, her heart lurched as Viv's hand hovered over Little Venice and Maida Avenue. Where her home with Gene was.

"What are you doing?" she breathed.

"There's an Alexandra Court here, Boss. Block of posh apartments," he said, placing a red sticker towards the end of Edgware Road and Maida Vale, barely 200 meters from the house.

Alex went pale and sat down.

Ray saw immediately what was wrong. "Christ…" he said, moving to stand beside Alex in solidarity. "It'll be okay, Boss. Might be nothing. We're looking for _Alex_ Court, remember?"

"Okay," said Capplan calmly, seeing immediately what had happened. "We're not jumping to any conclusions here, Alex. Now, I'm putting a green sticker on your home," he did so, "and Viv is going to finish putting all the Alexandra Courts on the map, then he's going to do the Alexandra Roads. You and Ray are going for some tea. Come back in twenty minutes."

Five minutes later, a silent Alex had barely sat down when Viv appeared. "Ray? Boss? You've _got_ to see this," he said, his excitement barely contained. "The Super is on his way down to the office too. Quick!"

Wide eyed, Alex got to her feet and they both hurried after Viv and met Gene on the stairs. Together, they arrived in CID.

"What've we got, Andy?" Gene did a double take when he saw the board. "And why is there a ruddy great sticker over my house?"

"Forget that, Sir, for the moment," said Crane, who'd been helping Viv put the stickers on the maps. "Look. Alex Court. We found it – and that's not all. Look what's almost beside it."

Everyone crowded around the board.

"Hemel fucking Hempstead," breathed Gene, "and the Magic Roundabout."

.o0o.


	14. Alex and the Magic Roundabout

**A Town Like Alex**

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Disclaimer: I'm using some characters from the BBC's Ashes to Ashes for fun. I don't own them and didn't invent them. I can assure you if I did I would've treated them much better than their actual creators.

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Author's Note: So, yeah, rain delayed play again. And by rain I mean the horrendous series three and ending, which drowned my muse so thoroughly, I was certain that resuscitation was futile. As it has been so long, I'm too ashamed to send this for any beta-ing so it's probably littered with typos and I apologise in advance for that. Not only are typos lurking where I can't see them, I'm certain this has suffered from the lack of my editor's trusty blue pencil. I hope it doesn't detract from a chapter that's been well over two years in the making. Thank you so much for all your reviews and words of encouragement, which made me not throw the towel in. I will finish this for you. I promise. And if you'd drop me a little review to let me know you're still reading, I'll treasure it.

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Alex gasped in surprise. "What? Alex Court… Magic Roundabout… _where_?"

"Look, Bolly," said Gene, his finger jabbing a point on the map. "It's a place called Alex Court and only a bit further down the road is this crazy roundabout, the one that's _known_ as the Magic Roundabout."

Alex followed his finger in disbelief, her mouth slightly open with surprise. "Oh my God - it's _here_!"

Gene nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "Hemel Hempstead. Can't bloody believe it."

The rest of CID crowded around the board to see for themselves. "True enough, Boss," said Chris, roughly estimating the distance on the map with his finger. "There's an Alex Court just off Alexandra Road here and it's about a mile away from this magic roundabout place."

Alex reached for the cryptic note from Jackie and a small frown creased her forehead as she concentrated.

_Mid land in the glade beneath the magic roundabout. Bring the package to Alex Court where Dougal is and he'll sort it. No, Alex Court is central. Yes, everything moves through a most reliable network thanks to our man inside._

Gene watched her checking things against the map; it was as if she was oblivious to the noise and chatter from the other people crowded around board. "What is it, Bolls?"

She double-checked the note again. "It really is here, Gene, _all_ of it."

He saw the enthusiasm in her eyes and clapped his hands together to shush the clamour in the room. "_Oi_, button it, you lot! Go on, Bolly."

There was instant silence as she began. "Okay, remember what Jackie told us - she was eavesdropping a telephone call but she couldn't hear too clearly. Now, if the person was talking about Hemel Hempstead, then here's the Magic Roundabout…" She pointed it out on the map. "And Alex Court is here then we've also got _Midland_ Road here. 'Mid land' isn't two words, it's one, see?" There were expectant nods from the rest of CID as they sensed she wasn't finished.

She took a deep breath and continued. "Look at the Magic Roundabout again. What do you see?"

Gene, examining the map, saw a blue squiggly line running through the roundabout from approximately north to south. "Is that a river?"

Alex smiled at him. "It is. And look at the name here – higher upstream – it's called the Gade River. Jackie didn't hear _glade_, she heard _Gade_ and it flows right through this roundabout. It's got to be in culverts underneath the road too."

"Hang on a minute." Gene paced across the office, processing what she had said. He said nothing for a few minutes, all eyes following him as he walked to and fro, like a silent one-man tennis match. "Gade instead of Glade?"

"An easy mistake to make especially as Jackie couldn't hear properly," she said, certain that this was a breakthrough. "It gives us everything we're looking for plus one last thing - remember Jackie said that she took an interest in all of this because she thought she heard her surname? _Queen_sway is at top of Alexandra Road and Midland Road is at the bottom."

Ray gave a low whistle of appreciation as he too looked at the map. "Oh, that is well clever, that is, Boss. It's _got_ to be it!"

"I think so, Ray. We can read Jackie's note differently if we assume that I'm right about all of this. Think about the fact that she couldn't hear too clearly." She cleared her throat and began. "_'Off Midland Road. In the Gade beneath the Magic Roundabout. Bring the package to Alex Court, where Dougal is, and he'll sort it. No, Alex Court is central. Yes, everything moves through a most reliable network thanks to our man inside.'_"

"It makes sense," said Capplan and he traced the route from Alex Court, down Midland Road and straight to the Magic Roundabout. "Something dodgy is going on and they're hiding whatever they need to hide under the road in a culvert. Nobody would _ever_ look in there – Christ, you couldn't pay me enough to crawl into it."

"I know!" Alex nodded enthusiastically and then the others started pouring over the map again to see if there was anything else that could be linked to Jackie's note. She was about to join in when her eye caught the green sticker, placed directly over their house. All of a sudden it struck her; was she so certain about the Hemel Hempstead link that she was willing to stake their lives on it? She saw that Gene hadn't moved from where he was sitting on Chris's desk and as soon as she looked at him, she knew he was thinking the same thing. She felt her burst of elation and enthusiasm drain away – were they safe? Her fingernail absently picked at the green sticker, almost as if she was trying to remove the threat by removing the little dot.

Gene noticed her demeanour changing and he also knew what was wrong. However, he wasn't the only one to notice and just as Gene got to his feet, Capplan beat him to it. Gene watched as the other man unobtrusively moved Alex's hand away from the board.

"Okay, everyone, listen," he said loudly and people settled down again. "Given how quite a lot of the puzzle appears to fit in with Hemel Hempstead, I don't believe that this 'Alex Court' thing is anything to do with our Alex whatsoever. But I still think we should check out Alexandra Court near the house in Little Venice, just to be on the safe side. It'll be unobtrusive and nobody will be any the wiser. Something like 'tracing an electrical fault'. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Gene moved closer to Alex. "You reckon we're in the clear, then?"

Capplan knew what was happening. Right now, Gene wasn't his Superintendent and Alex wasn't his DI. Before him were two people who had been through a lot and who had been very worried about a perceived threat. They needed reassurance and, most of all, they needed privacy to digest the news.

Capplan stood up. "I think so but I'd still like to have the area checked out. Alex, you were going for a cuppa a while ago so why don't you both take a break from this and let us work out something to let the lads have a snoop around Alexandra Court."

Gene rubbed at the back of his neck and he felt Alex's hand curl around his free arm. "Yeah, er… we'll…" He didn't want to go to the canteen where they'd have to sit there in full view of the gossiping gawpers of the station. Or Luigi's where the little Italian would bombard them with questions and samples of pasta.

Shaz helped them out. "I'll get you some tea and sandwiches and bring them up to your office, Guv."

Alex smiled at her in grateful thanks and they both left CID, feeling excited but uncertain at the same time. Soon, Gene closed the door to his office behind him and leaned against it with a sigh. "Okay, love?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know. Is that it? Some sort of operation running out of Hemel Hempstead and it's got nothing to do with me?" She turned and looked out the window. There were times when she wished they could have a simple, normal life with nothing to worry about except slugs in the flowerbeds. She gave a hollow laugh – knowing their luck, the only slugs in their flowerbeds would be shotgun slugs.

He stood behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "We'll be all right, Bolls," he whispered as he rested his head against hers. Alex turned in his arms and leaned into his hug.

"You give the best hugs."

He gave a low rumble in agreement. "You're not so bad at this hugging business yourself," he said, his voice raspy and low. She squeezed him even tighter and Gene groaned. "Christ, but you're a strong bird."

"Want me to pick you up and give you a cuddle?"

"Go on then." His eyes were glittering slits as he looked along his nose at her.

Alex, deciding she'd probably need a functioning back for the rest of her life, didn't heft 16 stone of Gene Hunt into her arms. Instead, she chuckled and relaxed her grip. "Maybe not today." She pressed a kiss against his lips. "Promise me something?"

"Anything," he replied without hesitation.

"Promise me that when this case is done, both of us are taking some badly needed leave."

He nodded in agreement. "I promise – no matter what's going on when this case closes, we're out of here for at least a month. You too?"

"Definitely. Promise." She kissed him again. "Thank you."

He hummed his thanks as he returned her kiss. They would get through this – he was certain of that.

All too soon, she smoothed his hair back into place and reluctantly pulled away from him. "We've still got all those files from Strangeways to look through. I couldn't leave them here and wait for yet another day."

He knew she was right and no matter how much he wanted to take her home, they still had a job to do. "No, we can't," he agreed. "And I wish we'd looked harder for an Alex Court as soon as Jackie came to me. The Magic Roundabout – I don't know why I never thought of that bloody roundabout. But you… you've given us a way in on this case, Bolls. We've _finally_ got something concrete." He squeezed her hand in admiration and pride. "Clever clogs."

"Well, it was a team effort and someone would've made the link eventually. I only-"

"Yes, someone _might_ have made the link," he interrupted. "But you actually did it and I suspect you're not finished with it all yet. This is your case, Alex – it's a career maker. You'll see."

"Another DCI Hunt?" she said, her eyes twinkling at him.

"I'll even teach you how to do a bruise-free groin slap."

She laughed softly and entwined her fingers with his. "Thanks for the offer but I think I'll leave all groin slapping to the specialist."

He stood back from her for a moment before framing her face with his hands. He looked at her so steadily that Alex felt a blush rising as she watched his eyes flick from her lips and back up again.

"Gene-"

"Shush." He pressed a thumb lightly to her lips before kissing her softly. Then he pulled out his chair and then tugged her down onto his lap before wrapping his arms around her again.

She kissed the top of his head and held him against her. There were moments like this when he caught her completely off-guard. They were few and far between but they happened; rare moments when he let all his defences down. "You really going to change your name after we're married?"

"Of course," she replied. "I can't keep 'Drake'. It's my ex-husband's name so it'd be weird."

"I suppose," he agreed. "But it'll be weird not bellowing _Drake_ from the office door."

"Oh, I think you'll manage, Hunt."

"Hope so, Hunt. Christ – it's going to get mighty confusing around here."

She laughed into his hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Just as she was about to speak when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in, Granger!" he called, knowing it was Shaz with her distinctive 'tea's-ready' knock. Alex released him and moved to stand but he held her where she was.

"Here you go, Guv. A few sandwiches and I got your favourite biscuits too, Boss." She smiled when she caught a very rare sight of her two superior officers having a cuddle. "Can I get either of you anything else?"

"No, thank you, Shaz." Alex gave the young woman warm smile. "What would we do without you?"

"It's all right, Boss." Shaz left the tray on the table and with a final smile she left them to it.

Gene gave her a wink as she left; she'd go far, Shaz would. She was prepared to do the grunt work that would give her the edge over most of her colleagues. He was proud of her too and looked forward to seeing which direction she'd choose in her career.

With a contented sigh, he released Alex and had a glance through the sandwiches. "Excellent," he said as Shaz knew him well. "Not a bit of coleslaw in sight. And there's some rabbit foot in these sandwiches for you."

Alex leaned against the table, folded her arms and gave him a curious look. "What was that?"

"Hmm?" He frowned when he found some veggie green thing lurking under some ham.

"That – just before Shaz came in. Normally you'd never let anyone see us even-"

He raised his eyebrows and flicked the bit of gherkin from the ham sandwich into the bin. "It was only Shaz – she's seen us together when you were at the Yard. Anyway, I don't give a flying fart what people think anymore."

"No?"

"No." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You going to stand there grinning or help me demolish this lot? I'm starving, me."

"Me too." She took one of the more comfortable chairs beside him at the meeting table and tucked in. They attacked the sandwiches with relish, with Gene grumping every so often if there was gherkin. He was quite adept at flicking it away too. Another bit was removed and it landed in the bin with a ping.

"I don't what you have against gherkins, Gene. They're delicious." She took another mouthful and crunched through the gherkin's delicious bitterness.

"I'm not eating anything that looks like an infected cock."

She paused and then swallowed with difficulty. "And now, neither will I, thanks very much."

He grinned at her and took up another sandwich. "Apart from the infected cock bits, these are delicious. Wonder where Shaz got them from?"

"The canteen, I'll bet. Used her particular brand of charm on the tea ladies and told them it was all for you."

He let his eyes twinkle at her.

"Stop it, you," she replied. "Those blue eyes are wasted on me."

"I don't know about that, Bolly. I've plenty of evidence to the contrary."

"Huh!" She took a gulp of tea and sneaked a pink wafer.

"Oi! Bollykecks – those are mine." He gave a good-natured grab to recover his treasure.

She stuffed the entire biscuit into her mouth and then coughed spectacularly as the dry crumbs went with her breath. Pink crumbs sprayed everywhere as she spluttered. "Sod… you!" she gasped as Gene started laughing.

He gave her a few firm thumps on the back and handed her some milk. "Down the hatch, Bolls."

With a few more coughs, she managed to drink the milk and her coughing subsided. Gene was still laughing quietly and the sight of his genuine amusement made her smile. She reached out and caught his hand in hers, her shining eyes telling him everything.

"I know, love," he said and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Then, after they'd finished off all the biscuits and tea, he reluctantly ended their impromptu lunch. Crossing to the other side of the room, he heaved a box up on to his desk. "Right, Drake, let's get this over with."

"What are we looking for?" she asked, somewhat innocently, as she peered around his arm.

He clicked his tongue at her. "Honestly, Bolly, you are an Inspector, right? We are looking for _stuff_."

"Oh, _stuff_. Right. Gotcha." She gave him a friendly shove and took up a sheaf of paper that turned out to be a copy of the visitor's book. Everyone who came in to see O'Brien was recorded under date and time. "This won't take long." She gave the list a cursory flick over.

Gene took the papers from her hands. "I'll do that as I'll know if any of the local scrotes called in to visit their good ol' mate, Paddy. I caught some familiar looking names when I scanned through it earlier. Here – you check the records of his letters and we'll compare notes." He dragged a chair around the desk so they could work side-by-side.

Alex's task was much easier as it appeared that O'Brien wrote only to his ex-wife, mother and brother and they were the only ones who wrote to him. There was nothing she could help Gene with so she sat and watched him going through page after page, checking O'Brien's visitors off against the main prison logbook. He was engrossed in whatever it was he was looking for so she kept silent and let him concentrate.

Less than five minutes later, he sat back and suddenly dropped the papers to the desk with a bang as his fist crashed down on them.

Alex was startled. "Wha-" His finger jabbed at a name on the visitor's book and her eyes widened. "_David Crane_?"

"What do you make of that?"

She was flabbergasted. "I… I… it's not _possible_."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course it's not possible, you mare. Crane hasn't left London in weeks."

"How do you kno-" she paused. "You're watching him." It wasn't a question, as she knew by him that it was true.

Gene said nothing.

"But why!" Alex was stunned. "Gene, I don't know what you have against him but David is a loyal member of the team."

He huffed. "His name has just showed up, three times, on a visitor's book for Patrick O'Brien. See? Here, here and… here." He flicked through the pages and pointed each entry out to her.

"But you've just said it can't be him. What the hell is going on here?"

He glowered at her. "Alex, if you'd get over your indignation for a second and think like a copper, that would be really useful. Think! Why would Crane's name be here?"

"Only if he put it there," she replied, somewhat sourly. She didn't like it when he barked at her in that manner.

"Okay, but we know for a fact that he didn't put it there. So now what?"

"So… someone else did it?" Her voice was hopeful.

"Correct. There – that wasn't so hard, was it?"

She frowned. "Don't patronise me. I just saw a friend's name associated with this mess, not to mention the fact that you put a tail on him, so excuse me for being a bit shocked."

Gene was about to bark a sharp reply but he kept himself in check. She was right. After all, thinking was what Alex did best, so it was a bit rich for him to be so heavy-handed with her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She met his eye and he knew he was forgiven; she really was too good to him.

"I've never particularly warmed to Crane, you know that, Bolls. I can't say why – just a gut instinct kind of thing and it's probably because he's ex-Branch. They always snoop and spy and I have no time for that kind of copper at all. But I know this; I watch my back and I watch my team and Crane hasn't been near Patrick O'Brien since the day you both interviewed him. Someone is using his name as a cover."

Alex nodded at his words. "And that someone must know that David had dealings with O'Brien too. Why else would they use his name?"

"Exactly. After all, if the arresting officer wants to see someone who's on remand, who'd care?"

Alex shivered involuntarily. "What have we stepped in here? What was so bad that O'Brien killed himself over it? And why did he think _you_ were involved?"

Gene shook his head. "I don't know but it's something rotten, that's for sure. Everything about this stinks to high heaven and I don't like it – not one bit." He pursed his lips. "Later, see if you can get your tea with Crane. He's had a few days off lately and I'd like to know exactly what he's been up to, as I can't find out. He keeps himself to himself when he wants to." He frowned and checked his watch. "Christ, I've got a long and boring meeting with the Chief Super and your old buddies from the Sweeney in ten minutes."

"I don't like this cloak and dagger stuff with David, Gene. It doesn't feel right to me."

He gave her a shrug. "It's not up for discussion, Bolls. Put the whammy on Crane and see what he coughs up, if anything at all. Give him a good shake and see what falls out of his pockets. Do it this evening and report back to Andy Capp."

Alex gave him an incredulous look. "Capplan knows about this?"

"He's your DCI; of course he knows. He arranged for the tail on Crane." Gene felt the old familiar tension building and it annoyed him. Not now – he didn't want this same bloody argument with her again. Hadn't they sorted this out?

Alex was about to argue the point him when she took a breath. Capplan _was_ her DCI and Gene was her Super. This was one of the times where he organised things without her input; she didn't like it and wished it was otherwise but they were the ones who chose to have a personal and professional relationship. It was hard for her to differentiate the two but… she had to do as he asked. He'd done her the favour of asking himself instead of passing it on to Capplan and he'd told her that he had eyes and ears on Crane. He was making an effort and trusting her.

She got to her feet and slid an arm around his shoulders. "Okay. Well, see you later then, Guv." She leaned down and kissed him tenderly. "Thanks to your meeting, I'll probably be home before you, so if you can have your dinner here, I won't have to pretend that I've cooked and you won't have to pretend that you liked it."

"Wow. It really is my lucky day." He smiled up at her. "Do you mean my tea or…"

Alex rolled her eyes at their familiar teasing over 'posh versus northern' and smiled. "Tea or dinner. Whichever meal gives you the most food for the day."

"Gotcha." His hands moved around her waist and he looked up at her with sincerity. "Are we okay?"

"Yes." She bent and kissed him again. "We're okay, love. See you at home."

He still didn't let her go. "And you, Bolls? I mean… I know we haven't had the Alexandra Court near the house checked out yet but…"

She knew what he was trying to say. "I'm okay too. The more I think about it, the more I'm sure that this whole Alex Court thing is not about me, so don't worry any more. I'm fine and all I want is you home this evening."

He smiled at her and gave her waist a squeeze. "Well, good." He took a deep breath. "Sorry I snapped at you earlier."

She kissed his head lightly. "Forgiven and forgotten, sweetheart."

He cleared his throat and winked at her. "Right, clever clogs, off you go and I'll see you later."

"I'll be waiting." She gave him a small wave as she left the office.

He knew she'd follow up with Crane as he'd asked and he was relieved that she hadn't blown up at him. Although, in fairness to her, Alex always needed to know the whole picture and if she suspected that she wasn't told something, she wouldn't let it go. It's what made her such a good copper. It had to be hard for her to put aside her inquisitive nature and accept that he knew things and made decisions without her input. It wasn't how they worked together before and it certainly wasn't how their private relationship worked. He was the one who had most control at work and that had to be difficult for her. They worked best as partners and he didn't like being so removed from the action in CID. All the same, the fact that they didn't work together as closely as they had done also meant the few hours apart sometimes did them the world of good. He looked forward to going home to her or the times when she came home to him. He smiled again when he thought of her; Bolly was nobody's inferior and she was, without question, the better half of him. He would see to it that she had her recognition from her time with The Sweeney. It was the least that she deserved and this boring tosspot of a Chief Super owed her one.

xXxXxXx

Meanwhile, Alex went back to CID with a confused head and heart. On one hand, she was delighted with the breakthrough over the note and the happy lunch she had just shared with Gene. But the dark cloud of David Crane's possible betrayal hung over her and she wasn't looking forward to "putting the whammy" on him. So, with a supreme effort, she joined in with the enthusiasm of her colleagues and took their reassurances that there was nothing untoward with the Alexandra Court near her home with Gene. When Crane offered to head up the impromptu search of the said apartment complex, Capplan caught her eye and managed to deflect the offer onto Ray instead. Obviously, as Gene didn't trust Crane, it was best to keep him away from anything important for now. So, difficult as it was for her, she helped in concocting a good cover story about an electrical fault, and waved Ray and the crew off, leaving herself, Shaz and Crane in CID.

"You sure that Ray will do thorough job?" asked David, having the sense to keep his concerns to himself until CID was empty apart from Shaz. Even Capplan went with the troops to keep an eye on things; more than happy to go out with his team than go to the meeting which Gene was dreading. Shaz was busy sorting out files and wasn't paying any attention to the muted conversation of her DIs.

"I have no doubt about it," she replied with confidence. "Ray is still in Gene's black books over the mess up with Tricky Dick's file. You'll see – this will be the most thorough job he's ever done. We couldn't have a better man on it right now."

"Well, good, then." David smiled broadly at her and was still smiling when he retook his seat at his desk.

Alex watched him out of the corner of her eye. Now that she was looking for it, sure enough, there was a little grin on Crane's face that was almost permanent. She listened to his phone calls – all the usual records and administration stuff – and watched him as he whistled his way around CID. After a few hours of this, and clearing out her entire in-tray, she had enough.

"I'm hungry, David. What do you say we go for dinner until everyone gets back? I could do with the distraction."

Crane readily agreed, and after phoning his wife to say he'd be home late, he went with her up to the canteen where a noisy dinner queue had already formed. With half of plod battling for the choicest cuts from the roast-of-the-day, Alex thought the place sounded like feeding time at the zoo. She hated it but… Gene had asked and she wanted this boil lanced as delicately as possible. Time to put things in motion, so she took a steadying breath and began.

"Okay – out with it. You've been grinning all day, David. What's up?" She smiled affably at him as they waited in the queue.

"I'm just glad that we got some sort of breakthrough in the case," he replied as he picked up a small carton of milk and paid an inordinate amount of attention to yoghurt versus cheesecake.

She said nothing further and waited until they'd selected a table. Plonking her tray opposite him, she sat down and kept looking at him until he met her eye.

"Give over, Alex."

"What's going on?" Inwardly she hoped that it was something mundane. David was too sincere, too dedicated – he just _couldn't_ be corrupt.

He snorted and ate a large forkful of spaghetti bolognaise.

Alex arched an eyebrow, picked at a leaf of lettuce and finally, Crane caved.

"Jesus… okay, but keep it to yourself, yeah? And the Guv, I suppose."

"Not a word," she said, relieved that whatever it was, Gene could be told. That had to be good. Right?

"Sarah's pregnant."

She did a double take, as this was the last thing she expected. "What? Really?"

He nodded. "Really. She's just over three and a half months."

"That's _fantastic_ news," Alex said with a broad smile of delight and relief. "And she's well? Everything is okay?"

"She had a rocky few days over the past while but she's okay now. Poor thing – the morning sickness wiped her completely. You know when I took a few days off?"

Alex nodded.

"I tried to help with the boys and tidy the house and stuff but I think she just wanted her Mum. She was miserable, Alex and I so wanted to tell you but she made me promise not to breath a word."

"I'd have understood – she should've said-"

David swallowed. "She had a miscarriage last year. We didn't want-"

She put her hand on his. "Say no more. She really is okay now, though?"

"She really is. The doctors have been watching her like a hawk and they're more than satisfied. She's going for her another scan on Friday. Three kids, Alex… how'd I get to be this lucky?"

"We take whatever luck comes our way," she replied with a smile. "You do look happy, David."

"I'm bloody thrilled." He could hardly keep the smile off his face now that his secret was out. "We both are. It's exactly what we'd hoped for and the boys are going to love having a baby brother or sister to play with. All going well. _Everything_ is going well actually."

"Everything?" She kept her tone light and interested.

"Yeah – Alex… you've no idea what it means to me to be part of a team like this. I've never had it before. I hated working with Branch and Gene gave me a way out. Do you think anyone on my team in Branch gave a damn about me or Sarah or the boys?" He laughed mirthlessly. "We weren't a team – everyone was looking out for the next promotion or the next big arrest and I thought I'd never get out of there."

"I'm glad that you're happy, David. Truly." She gave him a genuine smile because she had a good feeling that there nothing untoward about his behaviour. They chatted for ages about the new baby, and, through careful questioning, Alex was convinced there was nothing going on in David's life other than what she already knew; the guy just didn't have it in him to be anything other than the decent man she knew he was. If someone was leaking information from Fenchurch, or if someone was on the make, then it wasn't David Crane. However, the real question was whether Gene would trust her on this one or not.

They manned the fort until the noisy troops returned from their search of Alexandra Court. Alex realised that this was the part she hated most about policing. Waiting. They had to do a lot of waiting and it was something she was always rubbish at. Stakeouts that were fruitless, waiting for others to arrest a suspect, waiting for results from tests or requests, waiting to hear news; it drove her nuts and she usually found something to do to occupy her time. But CID was as neat as a new pin, Gene wasn't around and all she could find was the dreaded review of arrest journals. She checked her watch again for the umpteenth time and glared at it when it was only 5:32. It had been 5:29 when she checked _ages_ ago. Then, in the distance, she heard doors slamming and voices and soon the team piled into CID. She was on her feet, white-faced and anxious. "Well?"

"Nothing, Boss. All clear," said Ray, giving her a clap on the back. "It's just a posh apartment complex, well run and it's got nothing to hide. We checked every inch of the place and all is in order. The building caretaker let us look everywhere, even into apartments where nobody was at home."

She closed her eyes in relief. "Thank God."

Capplan extracted a large camera from his carry-all and set about taking the film out of it. "We photographed everything too, just to be on the safe side, but there's nothing to worry about, Alex. That name was a coincidence and we need to focus our efforts on Hemel. Can I've a quick word?" He looked at Alex and pointed towards his office.

He took a seat behind the desk that even after all this time, it still looked wrong to her. That was Gene's place.

He caught her sad look. "It checked out, Alex. There's nothing for you to worry about with that Alexandra Court. Your home is safe and just to be on the doubly safe side, I've arranged for the occasional security detail to keep an eye on your place."

"Thanks, Guv," she replied, trying to brighten up. "Will the budget allow for it?"

"Where the safety of a Superintendent and Detective Inspector are concerned, we'll find a way. But try and put it behind you and focus on the case in hand. I know it's a lot to ask but-"

"I can focus, Guv. Gene and I have been through worse."

Capplan nodded. "I'm well aware of that. Problem is, there's only so much you can take. If it's getting too much, Alex, you have to talk to me."

"But Gene-"

"Is way too close to this one," he interrupted. "You both are. And you both badly need to get away from here for a break."

"As soon as this case is closed, we're going."

Capplan didn't spell out the obvious – sometimes cases took years to close. Instead, he just nodded and went along with her. "Anyway, you have a wedding coming up, don't you? You need a honeymoon with a wedding."

Alex smiled. "Just don't mention the word 'honeymoon' to Gene. A 'holiday' is about as much as he could stomach."

"Nonsense," scoffed Capplan. "For once in his life, he doesn't mind the teasing about being loved-up."

"You don't!" Alex laughed as this was the first she had heard of it.

"Too bloody right I do. That is, if I think I can get away with it. Always works if he's got the same dopey smile on his face that I see on yours every so often."

Alex blushed and waved a hand at him.

"You'll both be okay, Alex," Capplan continued. "Just remember that you've got a team behind you both – you don't need to do it all yourselves."

"Thanks, Guv," she said, genuinely touched by his concern.

"Anyway, did Gene fill you in on Crane? And what we want you to do?"

She nodded. "I've spoken with Crane, Guv. There's nothing there - David's a good man. All that's been bothering him lately is his wife's pregnancy which he doesn't want spread abroad just yet."

"Okay, right," he clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "I could use a cuppa, so wait here and we'll go through everything you have to tell me. You want one?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks. If I have any more caffeine today I'll be bouncing off the walls all night."

Capplan chuckled and left the office to get his tea and biscuits. Another difference from Gene. Alex sighed as she realised that she missed working him more than she had realised; now more than ever. Having Gene around was reassuring – he was the centre of the team and it was difficult to be here, in his stomping ground, without the man himself. Even if he was just a few floors above her. On the other hand, the fact that they were apart for most of the day did wonders for their reunions in the evenings. She was already lost in happy thoughts when Capplan interrupted her.

"And the dopey smile returns," he quipped as he retook his seat.

Alex couldn't help it. "I'm just… happy."

"I can see that," he said with a grin. "Righto – what've you got for me on Crane? And here - a few biccies for you."

As she'd already scoffed more than her fair share of biscuits earlier, Alex knew she should say no. But her doubts were fleeting and around mouthfuls of more chocolate bourbons and a few custard creams, she filled him in on everything she knew about Crane. It was a good and useful session and when she left, she felt relieved that he believed her and also that he didn't share Gene's suspicions. It made things somewhat better, knowing that they were so close to making a breakthrough and that they didn't have the worry of one of their own betraying them. Catching sight of the clock, she realised it was later than she thought so, with one last look over the white boards, she gathered her things and left.

xXxXxXx

"Evening, love." Two hours later, Gene walked out to the patio and dropped a kiss on her head.

"Hi!" She turned her face up to him for another kiss which he readily bestowed.

He flopped onto his sun-lounger beside her with a contented groan and took a sip from the glass of wine she had waiting. "At last – thought I'd never get home."

"Long meeting?"

He looked pained. "It gave a whole new meaning to the word 'long'. I thought I was going to be stuck in that poxy room forever. There's only so much I can take before I start fantasising about slamming their heads into the table. With considerable and repeated force until they shut the hell _up_."

She chuckled at the grim image and reached out to stroke his stubbly cheek. "Poor darling."

He gave her a slit-eyed look. "What do you want, Drake?" He heaved her over onto his lap. "Another cuddle?"

"Maybe," she said, smiling down at him before dropping a soft kiss on his lips.

He grunted and slid a hand under her cotton blouse, feeling soft, warm skin.

She kissed him again and stroked his hair back, letting her fingers trail lightly over his scalp each time. He hummed in contentment and his eyes closed as her fingers continued to work their magic. All too soon, her caresses stopped.

"Mmm. Keep doing that." His eyes were still closed and he pouted, waiting for another expected soft kiss.

Instead, Alex grabbed him and gave him a loud smacker.

"You dirty _mare_." He laughed and squeezed her tight before releasing her.

Alex retook her own seat and took another sip of her wine.

Gene watched her for a moment and then said, "That was good news about Alexandra Court and what you discussed with Crane earlier. You're convinced that he's the straight-laced swot he always was?" He had evidently been speaking to Capplan.

"Yes. He's totally devoted to his wife, family and his job. If that makes him a straight-laced swot, then that's what he is, in addition to being a doting dad."

"Just because a chap is all excited about his missus having another sprog doesn't mean he's not a bent copper, Bo-"

"I know that." Her reply was somewhat icy. "I don't have 'baby-blinkers' on, Gene. I see the man for what he is and I'm telling you, he's one of the good guys. I work with him every day, I see what he sees, and I know what he knows. There's nothing there. And Capplan agrees with me too."

Gene nodded slowly and decided that maybe, just maybe, she had a point. After all, if he was in CID every day, he'd be in a better position to judge Crane. As it was, he had to rely on the judgement of others and he trusted Alex's judgement above anyone else. "Okay, Bolls. Good job – I'm glad it's not him. Now all we need to do is figure out why his name was used in the prison's log book."

"So you trust me on this?" She gave him a steady look, wanting nothing but his honesty.

He nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Good." She smiled at him, pleased that he accepted her judgement. "They're really happy, you know? About the baby, I mean."

He gave a non-committal hum. "Well, why wouldn't they be? It's good news. Anyway – you're satisfied about Alexandra Court too? Nothing untoward in it?"

She nodded. "Ray and the lads did a very through job. Andy even photographed everywhere, just to be extra safe but it really is just one of those unfortunate coincidences."

"I think so too," he agreed. "London is full of Alexandra Roads and what-have-yous. Just because there happens to be something similar nearby doesn't mean anything. Too much points to Hemel for it to be otherwise. Stupid sodding Magic bloody Roundabout."

Alex laughed at his grumpiness and he gave her a wink as he took the sports pages from her newspaper and started reading. His attention wandered more than once and he found himself thinking about something else she'd said. 'Baby-blinkers'. It was getting too dark to read properly so he watched her out of the corner of his eye and, now that he was alert to it, he could see the thoughtful look on her face as she stared at the dregs of wine in her glass as if it held the secrets to the universe. He knew that far-away look and what, or more specifically who, she was thinking about. After surreptitiously watching her for about five minutes, he folded up the paper. "Alex?"

She raised her head and smiled at him but he could see it didn't quite take the sadness from her eyes. He held out a hand to her and she slid her fingers into his. He said nothing – there was no need. They sat in companionable silence and Gene's thumb stroked across her knuckles as they watched the garden darken and the neighbour's cat play with some leaves on the lawn. He didn't mention the word 'baby' or 'pregnant' because he knew she was thinking of Molly. He knew that even though she hid it very well, Alex was heartbroken over her loss but he also knew that his support helped her. Support didn't mean crying buckets of tears with her – it meant holding her hand in their garden and watching that dumb moggy almost dislocate himself over a few leaves. It meant recognising that she was grieving and allowing her the space and time to come to terms with her life now. Most of all, it meant staying put and not hiding his discomfort behind pints and a whisky chaser in the pub. If he was going to be of any help to her at all, then this is what he had to do. But it was more than that – he wanted to do it. He wanted to be the man she turned to and he knew that she'd do the same for him. Even though he knew she was melancholy, he liked the feel of her hand in his and sitting there in the twilight with her, he felt peaceful. Not only that but he couldn't help imagining what it'd be like if they had a little nipper of their own. Maybe the garden would have a swing and there'd be a doll or football lying forgotten on the lawn… He sighed and looked at Alex again. She'd be a wonderful mother and would be well able for any little tyke filled to the brim with Gene Genie genes. He chuckled to himself.

"What?" She looked over at him.

He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Nothing – just thinking about that meeting earlier and when I wondered if I'd ever get out of there so I could shag you again."

She smiled. "You were thinking about shagging me in the meeting?"

He pretended to deliberately misunderstand. "Shagging you in the meeting? Do you want the Chief Super to have a heart attack right – OW!" Alex had given his chest a light slap.

"You've got sex-on-the-brain."

"Damn right I do, Frilly Knickers," he said, unashamed as he hauled her to her feet and tugged her blouse free from her skirt.

Alex moaned as his hands ran lightly up and down her back. "Mmmm. Time for… oh god that's good… time for bed."

xXxXxXx

Later that night, Alex tucked her face under his hand. She loved his hands; large enough to cup her cheek and reach around her head. She turned her face into his palm and breathed deeply, catching a faint whiff of shaving foam. He was a good, kind man who was far more patient and caring than she could ever have imagined. Here, in the darkness of their room and coziness of their bed, she could let her carefully constructed outer persona fall and just be herself with him. Gene would understand.

"Don't be upset, love," he whispered.

She braved a smile for him and kissed his palm. "Just so you know, I am happy. Wonderfully happy, love."

"You miss Molly. That's allowed, you know." His thumb wiped a tear from her cheek.

Alex didn't say anything for a while. "Why did it have to be this way, Gene? For my Mum and Dad… Molly… why me? Why my family?"

He continued to stroke her cheek and looked into her lovely tear-filled eyes. "Dunno. Bad things happen to good people, sweetheart. It's the way things are, shitty and all as it is."

"And you, Mr Hunt," she said, as she slid her fingers into the hair at his nape. "You get to pick up the pieces of lost and broken coppers, right?"

He snorted. "Bollocks. I'm just me, Bolly. I run my station, I keep my streets clean and I look after my own. I try to, anyway. We had a good day, love – remember that. There's no link to you and Alexandra Court, David Crane isn't involved in this mess, and we'll figure the rest of it out. You, me and the team. We'll all be okay. And most important – you and me will be okay."

She smiled at him. "Of course we will." She kissed him lightly. "You've got a good team around you, love. We miss you in CID but we know you're still around. All of us want to be there."

"Should do, as most of them put in for it, like you, Mrs Frilly Knickers."

Her smile broadened into a fond laugh. "What is it with you and knickers?"

"I like knickers, especially all the smutty thoughts I have about yours."

"Mmmm. Me too when it comes to yours."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're a right little perv, you are."

She slid her leg over his and scooted closer. "Takes one to know one. Anyway, I can't help it, as you're quite the handsome eyeful. When you bend down to help me pick up all the files I've dropped - well… I can't _not_ look. It would be a waste."

"Are you telling me you've been a clumsy tart on purpose?"

"Never," she said, letting the tip of her tongue peak out between her teeth.

Gene gave a soft laugh. "And you wonder about me? Turns out, you're more than partial to a little knicker-perving yourself."

"Sorry, Gene, but there's nothing little about your knickers," she said, teasing him as her hands ran over his bum and gave him a squeeze to emphasize her point.

"I do _not_ have a big arse!" he huffed. "Unlike some of us around here."

Alex sniggered. "Says you."

He loved to see her smile so he squeezed her affectionately. "My Bolly."

She kissed him lightly. "Thank you, love," she said against his lips. She appreciated his efforts to make her smile while still helping her to talk about Molly and not fear the sadness. "I _am_ happy, Gene. I wouldn't change a thing about us." She curled herself against him and sighed with contentment. "I love you so much."

"I know, sweetheart." They lay in the comforting silence for some time. Gene stroked her back lightly and gave her a scratch between her shoulder blades, smiling as she wriggled in pleasure. "Alex?"

"Hmmm?"

"You'll always be Molly's mother."

Alex tightened her hold on him and her voice was small when she asked, "Will she forget about me? Will she even know how much I love her?"

"She will never forget you or the love you have for her." Gene's voice was filled with certainty. "Never."

"I won't forget her either."

"Of course you won't. Time helps you cope with it all but to be parted from a child… You never forget, Alex. You can work, drink, gamble, rage and fight but, in the end, it's always there. You _can't _forget."

"Do you think about Jane much?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not much. But sometimes her memory is so real, I could almost swear I see…" He rolled over and sighed. "No, I don't think about her much."

"What do you think you see?" she encouraged softly.

He was quiet for a while before answering. "It's a stupid thing. I see the door to her bedroom and I see my hand opening it. I just knew it, Bolls. I knew it, in that split second, that she was dead. Maybe if I'd checked in on her during the night or maybe if I hadn't insisted that she get used to her own room… She was two weeks old, for fuck's sake."

"I blame myself too – over Molly," she confessed. She had no words of comfort for him because she knew only too well what the self-recrimination felt like. "She was only a little girl and she wanted to be with me on her birthday but I left her with my godfather and that was the last time… She must've wanted me, you know? Maybe she was scared and called for me and I wasn't there. I'll never be there." She took a deep breath and blinked away the tears. "You're right – this ache never goes away."

He clasped her hand in his. "No. But we help each other, Bolly – about this stuff and about other things. We… work."

Alex turned towards him and reached out to stroke her fingers through his hair again. "Yeah, we do. Like you said a long time ago, were it not for our two little girls, we'd never have fallen in love."

Gene tucked an arm under her pillow. "You and me, Partner, we make one hell of a team. We're no accident of fate. We're too good to be a ruddy accident."

Alex chuckled at his words and curled up against him. "I love you to bits," she whispered into his ear.

"I prefer all my bits where they are, thanks," he said, loving the sound and feel of her quiet laughter against him.

She continued to smooth his hair and then she kissed him again. "How did I ever not love you?"

He puffed out his chest. "Oh, you always loved me. You just didn't realise it at the time 'cause your fancy bra had cut off the blood supply to your brain."

"Dream on, Hunt. Anyway, my brains are what drew you in."

"Right, yeah, of course it was. If by 'brains' you mean 'tits'." He gave one a gentle squeeze.

"That's exactly what I meant," she said dryly, arching an eyebrow.

"God… Bolly… I love your brains," he muttered and scooted down so he could kiss her breastbone and nestle his face against her. "What a brainy girl you are."

Alex giggled at his antics. "Gene! You-"

"Shush, woman. Less talking, more thinking." Both of his hands cupped a warm handful and he growled. "Gene Hunt _loves_ brains." He blew softly across her breasts and appreciated the reaction before dipping his head down and sucking a peaked nipple into his mouth. His hand wandered lower, fingers skimming and stroking.

Alex was instantly lost and submitted to his ministrations. Gene knew exactly where and how to touch her and he easily brought her to a shuddering, joyful climax before relenting and letting her catch her breath.

"Bloody hell," she gasped. "Oh… my god… _wow_…"

He smiled and curled an arm around her waist, stroking the soft skin of her lower back. "I'm ready to think some more, Ladybird. What about you? Still got your thinking cap on?"

"I'm thinking all sorts of long, hard thoughts, Shirley," she replied as she reached for him.

Gene snorted with laughter against her shoulder before giving it a playful nip. Then, reaching across her, he fumbled in his bedside drawer.

"Gene?" Alex was puzzled.

"Give me your hand," he said mysteriously as his fingers closed around his quarry.

Playing along with him, she held out her hand to him and he dropped a battered old matchbox into her palm.

Alex looked up at him with an expectant smile. "Is it-"

"Open it and see."

She sat up, slid the box open and there, wrapped in a small piece of black velvet, was her engagement ring, shining and resized to perfection. She looked up at him in wonder. "_Gene_ – when did you get it back?"

"Two days ago. I thought it'd keep until the weekend but this seems like a good time. Try it on."

She held it out to him, along with her left hand. "You do it. Like before."

He took her hand in hers and slid the ring into place on her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

"Oh… I _love_ it. Love you," she whispered and leaned forwards to kiss him.

"I love you too, Alex and I always will. So much. My Bolly." He returned her kiss, softly at first but then with more urgency and purpose, groaning as their tongues tangled and her hand slid down his back.

As they made move to each other, she was certain of one thing. Nobody had ever loved her as much as he did and she would spend her life protecting and defending that love. Together, they were strong and steadfast, and that knowledge made her feel like her life was only starting.

xXxXxXx

Alex woke suddenly around 4am. Gene was so deeply asleep that he wasn't even snoring and all she could hear was his quiet, even breathing. Sometimes, when she woke, she would lie there and listen to him and she'd eventually fall back asleep. She inched closer and let her nose brush against the soft skin of his shoulder and her thumb brushed against the cool surface of her ring. She smiled into the darkness and let her mind drift as she imagined the happy life they could have together. But after half an hour, sleep still eluded her. At this point, she knew better than to try and fight it so she slipped carefully out of bed. She tucked the covers in around him and dropped a feather light kiss on his forehead.

She pulled on her robe and left the bedroom, tip-toeing her way into the study. She felt like there was something about the case that was teasing at the edges of her consciousness, hovering just out of reach, and some research might help her. When she closed her eyes, she could picture the white board in the office. There was something… What? What could it be?

She closed the study door, switched on the desk light and squinted a little in the sudden brightness. Putting on her glasses, she rummaged for her little box of index cards where she had recorded some details about the armed blags she had been investigating during her time in Scotland Yard. These notes had been her personal "aide-mémoire" that had helped her to differentiate one blag from another. Until now, they'd remained in a box in the study with the rest of her work material, or so she thought. When she opened the box she saw that Gene had also dumped old notebooks, stray bits of paper, a shoelace and a broken Magic 8 Ball in on top on them. With a triumphant smile, she located what she was looking for under the debris and set to her task. Everything important was neatly typed out on the front of each card by moaning Mona under Alex's direction; date, time, location, type, duration and police units involved. Alex remembered only too well the battle royal she had to get M…Rona to do her job properly but it was worth it in the end. Yet again, she arranged all the cards according to the time that the robberies occurred. She'd done this so often that she knew the order they should be in. With a sigh, she studied the cards closely once more. Why these times and dates and why these locations? Nothing jumped out at her or seemed odd. Fifteen minutes after each robbery, cops from various divisions in London were chasing after armed raiders that would vanish into thin air. She could track a whole chase, as one division handed over to another. Hours spent chasing ghosts though the city and beyond, sometimes even into Kent. Everyone's attention had been focused on catching the raiders before anyone else was killed.

None of this was new to her. She knew it all; times, calls, chases… no link. Then she sat back on her chair. If her suspicion was right all along, and the only link to all these robberies was that there _was_ no link, then what if people were looking in all the wrong places? What if the robberies in London were a distraction so that nobody paid much attention to the comings and goings in North London, say around Hemel Hempstead? She already knew that none of the robberies were around that area. In fact, none of them were even in the immediate surrounding areas.

If someone left Hemel by car or a van around the times of the robberies, then where would go? Away from the fuss of a police chase, that was certain. So, by a process of elimination, she knew anyone who was up to no good in Hemel and who needed to get out of town, would head north or west.

Alex sat up straighter and looked at the road atlas again, feeling a bubble of excitement stir. Vans had been stolen in Belfast and had ended up in London and, courtesy of Tricky Dick, got a change of registration plate. Belfast was west. In fact, to be strictly accurate, it was north-west.

"Oh, no _way_…" she breathed as pieces clicked into place for her. She swept her index cards to one side and opened the big AA Road Atlas.

It all hinged on one question; how could a person get a van filled with stolen goods, possibly even drugs, out of the country but NOT out of the country at the same time? Northern Ireland was the perfect fencing post for stolen goods. If the vans were going to Northern Ireland, then it'd be most unlikely they would be stopped and searched at the ports. The vans had English plates on them (albeit fake ones) and wouldn't arouse suspicion, as customs and security at the ports would be too busy hassling people arriving _from_ Northern Ireland. Hell, you didn't even need to go through customs because Northern Ireland was in the UK.

If Northern Ireland was the destination, then it was only a short hop, skip and jump until you were over the Boarder and into the Republic of Ireland. If you had the help of a "reliable network", like the hint in Jackie's note, then you'd avoid all the security checkpoints, all the listening posts and all the bombed out Border crossings. You'd know exactly where to cross the Border undetected and get into a country that had lots of little Atlantic fishing ports that were, for the most part, wholly without security or other inconveniences like customs.

Alex pulled the road atlas closer and scrutinised the ferry routes to Northern Ireland. Liverpool to Belfast, or Stranraer to Belfast or Troon to Larne. Measuring with her pencil she estimated that Hemel Hempstead to Liverpool was 200 miles, to Stranraer was 390 and to Troon was 400 miles. With traffic, she estimated it would take about six hours to reach Liverpool and maybe double it for Troon or Stranraer… small roads and lots of slow moving traffic.

She tapped the pencil against her forehead. "Hmmm. Plenty of options to allow for variation in the times of the robberies. Ferry timetables. I need them…" She reached for the Yellow Pages but then realised it was just gone six in the morning. Dammit. She was on a roll and was irritated that the rest of the world wasn't as awake as she was. Gene would love this. Maybe she should go and wake-

As if on cue, a rumpled Gene opened the door. "You alright, love?"

She smiled and peered at him over the top of her glasses. "Yeah - I think I have something here."

Scratching at the back of his head, he ambled over to her and looked at the mess of index cards, paper, phone books and maps.

"Planning a trip?"

"Seriously, I think I may be on to something here but I just-"

He yawned, stretched and looked over her notes. "Ferries to Belfast?"

Seeing he was interested, she filled him in. "Gene, I think I've figured it out. I think they're moving stuff from a location in Hemel to Northern Ireland. And here's how they do it." She took him through what she had pieced together. He had a few questions for her and shifted her out of her chair as he poured over her notes. He scrubbed at his eyes and then, reached up to pluck her glasses from where she had them perched on the top of her head.

"Gene?" She was flabbergasted as he put them on and continued reading.

"Not a bloody word, Drake. Not even a squeak." He didn't look up from her map so he didn't see her broad grin.

Alex said nothing as she sat demurely on the edge of the desk.

"Stop it," he rumbled.

"Didn't say anything, Guv."

He relented and looked up at her. "Okay – I've used them sometimes. If this here writing wasn't so tiny, then I wouldn't have to squint, would I?"

"Fine." Alex gave a small shrug but there was a still a hint of a grin around her lips.

"Bolly…" His voice held a warning note and Alex's smile got bigger until a snicker escaped.

"Sorry." She put a hand over her mouth.

"Cheeky mare." He caught her fingers in his hand as he returned to her notes. When he was done, Gene smiled at her and the appreciative look he was giving her made her cheeks flush. Then he pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her thoroughly.

"Told you, Bolly," he said when they broke for air. "I bloody _love_ your brains."

"You certainly look the part now," she said, tucking some hair behind his ears and smiling at the sexy teacher look he was cultivating.

Gene, embarrassed at the very thought that he might need reading glasses, whipped them off and resolved never to be caught wearing them again. "Leaving aside my devastating good looks which have turned you into a week-kneed girl, I'd say, without question, that you've cracked this whole bastard case, love. I've never seen detective work like it… Bolls…" He kissed her again in appreciation and pride.

Alex was beaming from ear to ear. She loved this; the thrill of a good investigation, the resolution and the knowledge that her hard work was recognised. Most of all, she loved it that her partner understood why she'd get up at 4am and work. "You reckon I'm right, then?"

"Bloody sure of it. I also think you're more right than you know."

"What?"

"If you wanted help from a 'reliable network' in Northern Ireland, then you'd put the squeeze on someone that you know would point you in the right direction, wouldn't you? Someone who had a hell of a lot to lose if you fucked around."

Alex thought for a moment. "Patrick O'Brien."

"Got it in one." Gene sat back on the chair but kept his arm around her. "If we've got stolen goods, and who knows what else, being moved out of Hemel Hempstead to Northern Ireland, then you need help on the other side. You need the right sort of help too. The IRA aren't known for their charity work, so there's got to be a bit of tit for tat going on. Someone, using David Crane's name, put the hard squeeze on Patrick O'Brien to get in contact with the real dangerous IRA types. Not the 'Oh Danny Boy, crying-into-their-pint brigade' over here – the mad hard-core lunatics in Northern Ireland."

"But why would they need O'Brien? He's an IRA wannabe."

"Yeah, but a man who's desperate will do anything. You need to listen to O'Brien's interview tapes again, specifically the bit where Crane threatens O'Brien's family."

"So… they let O'Brien think that you're involved, that his family is in trouble and they need a reliable contact in return for 'protection'."

"And O'Brien knows from bitter experience that I'm not a very tolerant or patient man." He looked shamefaced when he thought about the hiding he'd doled out to O'Brien all those years ago.

"True," she replied and then another thought struck her. "Let's say you're right, and that someone was putting the squeeze on O'Brien, then it makes sense that they'd dispose of him as soon as they got what they needed, right?"

"Right."

"Then the same would apply to Tricky Dick, wouldn't it?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm willing to bet any amount of money that the taxi didn't squish him by accident."

"Someone's busy trying to cover their tracks." Alex rubbed at her temples. "Christ, we've got so much here I can hardly make sense of it all. We need to get-"

"Into work, ASAP," he finished for her. "You, me and everyone else." He rubbed his hands together. "You've done it, Bolls. These bastards, whoever they are, are going down. I know it. Come on." He got to his feet and hurried her in the bedroom to get dressed. Time for a tasty surveillance op in Hemel Hempstead; he'd soon see what stinking little rats were scuttling about. And if one of his team turned out to be an Achilles heal that had stabbed them in the back? Well, it wasn't just metaphors that would get a good mangling, that was for certain.

TBC~~~~~~~~~~TBC

(I promise)


End file.
